


Ready to Fall

by lemonsorbae



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst, Bottom Dean, Fake/Pretend Relationship, First Kiss, First Time, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Miscommunication, Smut, Virgin Castiel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-20
Updated: 2014-07-20
Packaged: 2018-02-09 15:48:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 25,272
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1988691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lemonsorbae/pseuds/lemonsorbae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Castiel’s plans for the summer get cancelled and he’s left with nowhere else to go, Dean invites him to go home with him. It seems an easy solution to cure Castiel’s summer blues, but when they arrive at the Winchester household, Dean realizes due to a slight miscommunication with his mom he and Castiel will have to spend the summer sharing a bed and holding hands because the entire Winchester family thinks they’re dating.</p><p>And really it shouldn’t be that big of a deal because Dean Winchester isn’t actually in love with his best friend; except for that he is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [literaryoblivion](https://archiveofourown.org/users/literaryoblivion/gifts).



> Written for [literaryoblivion](http://www.literaryoblivion.tumblr.com/), not only because she hit several milestones in her tumblr follower count since the first time I promised her this fic, but also because IT WAS HER BIRTHDAY a few days ago AND she is my absolute best friend in the entire world and I express my love for people in the form of gay porn and fluff. So, enjoy, Freck. I love you a lot. Thank you for always being the best.
> 
> Beta'd by [Caitlin](http://www.stormstiel.tumblr.com/), [Regina](http://www.swarleybradbury.tumblr.com/), [Rexy](http://www.maryftwchester.tumblr.com//), and [Wendy](http://www.poorbeautifuldean.tumblr.com/). They took my word vomit and made it something wonderful. Thank you darling loves. (All remaining mistakes and distasteful verbage remains my own.)
> 
> Title for this taken from the song [Ready to Fall sang by Joey Fatone](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=io8ntGQIuO8) (oh, yes.)
> 
> (I'm on tumblr too! Come [Come say hi](http://www.jimmynovakisaved.tumblr.com)!)

When Dean finishes his final exam for the semester, he heads straight for Espresso Self, the on-campus coffee shop, and slumps into his usual booth. There's sunlight streaming in through the big window next to him, the warmth from it sending goose bumps rippling across his skin when it collides with the cool air of the shop. He shivers slightly, but it feels nice once his body adjusts. 

He's only there a few minutes before Castiel, his best friend and one of the baristas at Espresso Self, joins him at the booth, black coffee for Dean already in hand. He slides the cardboard cup across the table and asks, "How was your exam?"

Dean accepts the cup graciously, putting it to his lips and sipping at the scalding liquid inside before pulling it away with a scowl. "Okay, I guess," he says with a swipe of his hand across his mouth. Castiel smiles warmly at him, and Dean can see a chiding in his features before he even speaks.

"You know it's hot, Dean. Why don't you ever wait for it to cool?"

Dean shrugs his shoulders and puts the cup back on the table, pulling off the lid to allow some of the steam to escape.

"I'm going to start putting ice cubes in your coffee," Castiel mutters as he watches Dean from across the table.  

Dean offers Castiel a cheeky grin. "Always looking out for me, huh Cas?" he teases. 

"Someone must," Castiel mutters with a shake of his head. Dean catches the slight blush that now tints Castiel's cheeks and his grin fades into a soft, fond smile. He slides a leg in-between Castiel's under the table, nudging at one of Castiel's knees with his own. 

He and Cas have been friends for about five months now, first meeting when Dean ducked into Espresso Self one unfortunate rainy day;  they haven’t run out of things to talk about since. Now Castiel knows Dean better than almost anyone, and it feels like they've known each other for a lifetime rather than just a few short months.

And Dean's about to be separated from the guy for the entire summer.

Dean stares down at his coffee cup and trails his thumbnail along the lip of it asking quietly, "When do you leave again?"

He knows the answer - he and Castiel have discussed this very topic several times in the past few weeks - but the thought of not seeing Cas every day for the next three months always sends an emptiness radiating through him. Acting like it's not deeply affecting him is the only way Dean knows how to deal with what he's desperately trying not to think of as abandonment.

When Castiel brings his gaze to meet Dean's, it's void of the usual quiet excitement Castiel gets when he talks about the summer anthropological dig he was accepted to be a part of. Instead his eyes are laden with a disappointment Dean can tell the other teen is trying to hide, igniting a spark of worry inside of Dean.

"What's wrong?" he asks.

"I won't be going on the dig this summer."

Dean's brain sputters to a halt. This is all Cas has talked about for close to six weeks - the only thing Dean has seen him actually get excited about. "What?...Why!?" Dean practically shouts.

Castiel sighs dejectedly. "The main sponsor for the dig pulled their funding last night," he explains. "Everything has been placed on hold until they can generate enough money to continue. All interns accepted into the program were dismissed this morning due to lack of funds and interest in the project."

"Shit, Cas," Dean says, his fingers twitching around his coffee cup as he fights the urge to reach across the table and squeeze Castiel's hands. "I'm sorry."

Castiel raises a shoulder and lets it fall, his face a mask of apathy that Dean can see right through.

"What are you going to do instead?" Dean asks, raising his coffee cup to his lips. Castiel is treating the whole situation very casually, so Dean tries to do the same to avoid making Castiel feel uncomfortable.

"I'm not sure yet," Castiel admits as he reaches across the table and toys with Dean’s discarded lid. "Stay here, I suppose, if they'll let me keep my job for the summer -  and my room."

"Why don't you come home with me?" Dean blurts without thinking, because the idea of Castiel staying here while Dean runs off to Kansas for the summer hurts worse than Cas being away for three months doing something he loves.

The look Castiel gives him is one he can't exactly decipher, but the fact that the other teen doesn't say "no" right away is definitely a plus.

"I wouldn't want to encroach," Castiel finally says, his words coming out unsure and quiet.

"You wouldn't be 'encroaching', Cas," Dean says using air quotes around Castiel's word choice. He never used air quotes until he met Castiel, but now they're just one of many habits Dean has picked up from the other teen. "You're my best friend. My family would love to have you."

Castiel worries his bottom lip between his teeth and Dean can practically see the wheels in his brain turning, working things out, compartmentalizing in the endearing way Castiel does. Finally his eyes meet Dean's, bright and hopeful. "Do you really think that'd be alright, Dean?" he asks. "I wouldn't be in the way?"

Dean scoffs at him. "Of course you wouldn't be in the way, Cas," he says. "There's plenty of room, as long as you don't mind sleeping on a bunk bed all summer."

"I don't mind."

Dean's face breaks out into a broad grin. "Great!" he says, "I'll let my mom know you're coming."

The smile Castiel offers him from across the table sets loose butterflies in Dean's stomach. It's small and grateful, and Dean's pretty sure that from this day forward, he's going to do whatever it takes to get Cas to smile at him like that all the time.

On his way home Dean texts his mother while idling at a red light. _Mom,_ he types, _bringing someone home with me for the summer. Hope that's alright._

Her response is a simple, _Can't wait to meet them!_ and it causes Dean to smile the whole rest of the way home.


	2. Chapter 2

They leave a week later after Castiel works his last shift at Espresso Self and they've both cleaned out their dorms. They set out on the road in the late morning, the sun high and bright in the sky. As Dean drives, he fills Cas in on all the things he thinks the other teen should know about his family. 

Castiel asks questions here and there, but for the most part he absorbs everything quietly with sincere shakes of his head and a thoughtful expression. Dean's pretty sure if Castiel is the devout anthropology major that Dean's always thought him to be, Castiel is logging every single bit of information away and privately analyzing it.

Around the sixth hour of their drive, Castiel falls asleep with his head resting against the window. Dean steals glances of him out of the corner of his eye every now and then, and when he stops for gas, and Castiel blinks awake, Dean can't help but smile. 

"Morning, Mr. Comatose," he jokes as he kills the Impala’s engine. 

Castiel looks around briefly before offering Dean a look of pure guilt. "I'm sorry, Dean. I didn't mean to fall asleep," he states, clicking the button on his seat belt and letting it slither slowly off his chest. 

Dean shakes his head. "It's fine, Cas." 

"Would you like me to drive for awhile so you can rest?" 

"Nope, I'm good." 

Castiel nods. "Alright." 

Dean gases up the car while Castiel stretches his cramped limbs and then the two of them use the restroom before setting out on the road once more.

~

It’s around 10 p.m. when they arrive at the Winchester residence. As soon as his door squeaks open, Dean is hit with the thick Kansas air and the sound of crickets chirping in the front yard. He looks up at his childhood home, set against a velvety, black backdrop of a star littered sky and breathes in deeply. 

It feels good to be home, and even better to have Cas with him. 

Castiel comes to stand at his side and looks up at the house with him. "This is where you grew up?" he asks.

Dean nods. "This is it."

They stand in silence for a few seconds, reveling in the quiet of the night before grabbing their bags and heading inside. 

Mary is the first to greet them. She's already in her nightgown, but her smile is warm and Dean is eager to get his arms around her and hug her tight. Dean Winchester may be a lot of things, but ashamed to admit he's a mama's boy isn't one of them. 

When they pull away Mary's gaze immediately flits to Castiel. "You must be Castiel," she says. 

Castiel nods and offers a quiet "Yes, ma'am." 

Mary opens her arms and pulls Castiel in like he's one of her own; Dean holds his breath for a split second. He's gathered his best friend doesn't come from a home with much affection, Castiel only ever mentioning snippets of the cold atmosphere he grew up in, but when Castiel relaxes into the touch, Dean relaxes too. "Dean has talked nonstop about how wonderful you are," Mary says into Castiel's hair. "We're so glad to finally meet you." 

Dean's cheeks heat with the admission and when Castiel shoots him a small smile, Dean can only shrug his shoulders in response. He hadn't realized he'd talked about Cas that much, but considering the amount of time he’s spent thinking about the guy, it really doesn't come as a surprise. 

Dean is saved any more embarrassment when his younger brother tackles him in a hug. When Dean last saw him over Christmas, Sam was still a gangly 14-year-old with too-long hair. Now he's a strapping 15-year-old who's lost all of his baby fat and is nearly the same height as Dean. His hair is still too long though. 

"What the hell?" Dean chokes around Sam's boa constrictor embrace. "Mom, who is this _guy_ and what have you done with my nerdy little brother?" 

Sam steps away with a laugh and shoves good naturedly at Dean's shoulder muttering "shut up, Dean," around a pleased smile. 

Dean smiles back and then gestures to Castiel. "Sammy, this is Castiel. Cas, Sammy."

"Welcome to Kansas," Sam states as he and Castiel shake hands. Castiel ducks his head in gratitude.

"Thank you," he responds. "I'm glad to be here." 

Mary ushers the boys further into the Winchester household, Dean and Castiel tugging their luggage in behind them. 

"Where's Dad?" Dean asks as he follows Sam into the living room.

"He's down at the station," Sam answers, dropping onto the nearest couch, his pajama clad legs sprawling out in front of him on the empty cushions. "He and Bobby had the late shift tonight."

"He'll be home in the morning," Mary assures Dean.

Dean nods in response as Castiel comes to stand next to him, close enough that their shoulders brush, and Dean feels warm from the touch. He isn't sure when things shifted from Castiel never giving Dean enough personal space and Dean feeling slightly uncomfortable to never being able to have the other teen close enough, but it's not something he feels emotionally equipped enough to analyze  so he doesn't. They're friends. Friends can be close, right?

"Are either of you hungry?" Mary asks.

Sam sits up, "I am!" he pipes in. "Will you make me a sandwich?"

Mary puts a hand on her hip looking as serious as a loaded shotgun even in her light pink nightgown. "It's time for bed, young man," she chides.

"But, Mom-"

"I said you could wait up for Dean. You've done that, now it's time for bed. It's a school night, Sam."

Dean offers his brother a cheeky grin. "Yeah, Sammy, time for man-children to go to bed. We _adults_ have lots of staying up to do."

Sam stands from the couch, all gangly limbs and pajama bottoms just a tad too short for him and stomps towards the stairs. "Shut up, Dean," he mutters.

Dean chuckles and glances at Castiel who's wearing a soft smile at the exchange. He hears his Mom tell Sam good night and then she's turning her attention to them again.

"Hungry?" Mary repeats.

Dean shakes his head, "Nah, I'm pretty beat," he says around a yawn and a stretch. The drive was a long one, and it's taken its toll on Dean's limbs and brain. All he really wants to do is fall into bed and sleep until late morning tomorrow. He turns his gaze to Castiel. "You hungry, Cas?"

"No, but thank you, Mrs. Winchester," Castiel answers, his voice formal and rigid. Dean elbows him in the ribs and it sends a breath of air whooshing out of the other teen's mouth.

"Quit acting like we're at the fucking White House, Cas, this is home. Relax."

"I am a guest here, Dean," Castiel counters, his blue eyes flashing in Dean's direction.

"Nonsense, Cas," Dean looks to his mother for back up. "Mom, tell him."

"I prefer Mary over Mrs. Winchester," she states, a soft smile on her face. "But I do appreciate your manners, thank you, Castiel. And as for you, Dean-" Mary says, turning her eyes on Dean, "-watch your language." There isn't much heat behind the words, but a pang of guilt shoots through Dean anyway.

"Sorry, Mom," he mutters. 

At that, Castiel gives Dean a satisfied grin to which Dean shakes his head.

"Suck up," Dean mumbles under his breath. Castiel merely smiles wider.

"Alright then," Mary says, ignoring Dean's comment and passing them, stopping at the bottom of the stairs. "Let's get your things upstairs then."

They follow Mary up the stairs and down the hall to what was Dean and Sam's old bedroom. When Dean was home for Christmas, the room had looked exactly the same as when he left; his and Sam's bunk beds were where they'd been for most of Dean's childhood years, Dean's old rock posters still spattering the walls, but when Mary pushes the door open and flips on the light, Dean's stomach lurches.

Where the old, wooden bunk beds used to rest is now a double bed, a tasteful floral print comforter lying over it. There are nightstands on either side of the bed now and matching curtains on the window, and it all looks great with touches of Mary all over the room, aside from the fact that he and Castiel are meant to share said room. And there's only one bed. And it's a double.

Castiel shifts on his feet next to him, scratching nervously at his arm.

"Mom-" Dean croaks as his eyes, wide in horror, take in the bedroom.

"Don't worry, honey," Mary says as she pads over to the bed and turns down the covers. "All of your things are in a box in the garage. Your father was careful to store them all properly so you could take them back to school with you in the fall if you'd like." When she looks up at him her face falters at his expression. "What's wrong, Dean? Is this not okay? I wanted to have it all ready for when you and Castiel arrived..." She trails off, and that's when Dean realizes just how badly he's fucked up.

When Dean told his Mom he was "bringing someone home," Mary must have assumed that "someone" was _a_ someone. A _special_ someone.  A someone that Dean was dating. In Dean's defense, Mary had never explicitly asked, but in Mary's defense, Dean had never clarified either.

Dean swallows hard.

It would be easy, telling the truth right away, explaining to his mom the misunderstanding. But the way she had looked at Castiel when he'd walked through the door, the way she had hugged him like he was just another part of the family, and the way Castiel had melted into that touch, unbeknownst that Dean was watching, all has Dean feeling like he's missed a step going up a staircase. While Mary certainly wouldn't treat Castiel any differently if he were just a friend, Dean can't, for the life of him actually find the words to set the record straight.

"Uh, no," Dean finally says, "It looks great, mom. Really. I was just surprised."

The warm smile is back on Mary's face. She crosses the room again. "I'm glad you like it," she says before kissing Dean on the forehead and then Castiel as well. "You'll let me know if you need anything?" she asks, pausing at the doorway.

Dean nods. 

"I really am glad you're here, Castiel," Mary states. "I've been eager to meet you since Dean first mentioned you, so thank you for letting us steal you away for the summer."

"Thank you for allowing me to stay," Castiel replies with a nod, and then Mary is smiling at them once more and closing the door behind her. 

The room is silent for a minute, Dean waiting until he's certain his mom is down the hall before blurting, "I swear to God, Cas, there were two beds in here when I was here last." He's facing his friend now, his hands curling around Castiel's biceps as his eyes beg Castiel to believe him.

"That's alright, Dean, I don't mind-"

"If you even say sleeping on the floor, I _will_ knee you in the nuts," Dean states, cutting Castiel off.

Castiel smiles at him then, a warm, quiet thing, and some of the uncertainty Dean's feeling eases out of him.

"I was going to say 'sharing', Dean," Castiel corrects. "I don't mind sharing a bed with you."

Dean's hands drop to his sides. "Oh," he says and then hurries to add, "okay, cool," because despite the fact that Castiel agreeing to share a bed with Dean has him feeling like his insides decided to throw a party, he'd at least like to _sound_ like it's not a big deal.

Castiel smiles and shakes his head and then turns from Dean and bends to dig through his suitcase. "Although I should warn you," he states, "I tend to be quite liberal with my share of the blankets. I apologize in advance if I hoard them in my sleep."

Dean offers Castiel a half grin. "S' okay. As long as you don't snore."

"I don't snore," Castiel assures him before heading into the adjoining bathroom and closing the door behind him.

Dean falls onto the bed and rubs his fingers over his eyes. He hasn't even been home for a full day and already things are completely fucked up. While Dean knows he needs to tell his family the truth if he's going to have any chance at a stress-free summer, the fact that his family thinks he's dating Castiel doesn't bother him like it probably should.

When Castiel steps out of the bathroom he's donned in a plain, white undershirt and pajama bottoms with bumblebees on them. Dean sits up on the bed, taking in Castiel's attire and something twists inside his stomach, because while there are 101 different jabs at Castiel's pajamas running through Dean's mind right now, they're all temporarily silenced by how downright adorable Castiel looks.

Dean doesn't even remember the last time he thought someone was adorable; never, probably.

"Nice pajamas," Dean finally says, his voice coming out with a steadiness he doesn’t actually feel.

Castiel looks down at them, as if he's forgotten what he's wearing. "Thank you," he says when his eyes meet Dean's. "They were a gift from my sister."

"They're uh..." Dean scratches at the back of his neck, a smile quirking at his lips "...cute," he finally finishes.

Castiel frowns at Dean and cocks his head to the side, "Dean, are you making fun of my pajamas?"

"Maybe just a little bit."

Castiel opens his mouth, probably to unleash a self-righteous retort, but Dean quickly grabs his duffel bag, offers the other teen a smirk, and ducks into the bathroom closing the door soundly behind him.

Castiel is already in bed when Dean pads out of the bathroom, his eyes closed and his face still, and before Dean even climbs in beside him his heart rate picks up to a speed Dean just knows can't be natural.

He drops his duffle bag in the corner and flicks off the lights before sliding in between the sheets next to Castiel and lying on his back with his hands clasped over his chest, trying to find the words to tell Cas that his family thinks they're dating. He could just let Castiel remain oblivious; tell his mom in private in the morning, but not saying anything doesn't feel right. Castiel is his best friend; Dean would hate for him to find out later and feel taken advantage of or lied to.

"Dean," Castiel says quietly, interrupting Dean's thoughts. "Is everything alright?"

Dean looks over to find Castiel's gaze boring into him, and even though it's dark, Dean can still see the concern etched there.

"I think my family thinks we're dating," Dean blurts and then hurries to say, "but, I'm going to set it straight in the morning, I promise."

"Where did they get that impression from?" Castiel wonders, and thank god he doesn't sound upset. 

"When I told my mom I was bringing someone home, I think she thought I meant, _someone_ someone. Like, someone I'm dating someone," Dean tries to explain. He doesn't feel like he's making a whole lot of sense, but Castiel doesn't say as much. In fact, he doesn't say anything at all.

"I'm sorry, man," Dean continues, unable to handle the silence from Castiel's side of the bed. "I didn't realize it until my mom brought us up here and there was only one bed, and I was going to say something, but I-"

"Dean."

Dean stops stammering and glances down at the hand Castiel has placed on his arm. 

"It's okay," Castiel states. "It's a simple misunderstanding."

"You're not mad?"

Castiel squeezes Dean's bicep and then lets his hand fall to the mattress. "Of course not," he says. "You'll correct the issue in the morning and everything will be fine."

Castiel's complete lack of irritation over the matter sets Dean's mind at ease a little and makes him feel less jittery. "Thanks, Cas," he says after a few moments.

Castiel's only response is to say, "Good night, Dean."

Dean turns his head and smiles at his best friend. "Night, Cas."


	3. Chapter 3

Dean wakes the next morning with a crick in his neck and a set of wide, blue eyes staring adamantly at him.

"What the hell, Cas?" Dean grumbles, scrubbing a hand over his face. Castiel is fully dressed, his hair still slightly damp from a shower, and Dean wonders just how long his best friend has been waiting for him to wake up. "How long you been watching me sleep? That's creepy."

Castiel ignores the question and instead says with conviction, "Dean, I don't think you should tell your family we're not dating."

Dean forces his eyes back open and his heart stops in his chest. "What?"

"I thought about it last night and I think it's better if we play along. For your family's sake."

There's something about the way Castiel explains his reasoning that makes Dean feel like he's missing a vital part of the story, but he figures if Cas had more to say, he'd say it, so he doesn't pry.

"I don't know if that's such a good idea, Cas," Dean reasons, even though he wouldn't hate having to pretend to date Castiel for three months. The idea seems kind of nice actually, being able to take care of Cas like he would if they really were dating, having an excuse to touch him all the time and smile at him just because...   _But what about after the three months is over?_ Dean reminds himself, and says as much to Castiel.

Castiel shakes his head. "I don't know," he admits. "We'd have to figure it out when the time came, I just..." he pauses to sigh, "I just don't think we should tell them."

Nothing that's coming out of Castiel's mouth sounds very much like the guy Dean's gotten to know over the past five months or so. Castiel is calculated in all his thoughts and actions, every move carefully thought out, every decision executed with precision. But this, with the _I don't know's_ and the _figure it out's_ has Dean itching to know just what it was that's changed Castiel's mind.

Dean knows he should argue the point more, but if he's being completely honest with himself, he just doesn't want to. So what if his family spends three months thinking Dean's snagged a guy who's actually pretty great, a guy who listens to Dean like he truly cares and looks at him like he's of the utmost importance in Castiel's life?

"Are you sure?" Dean finally asks. "I mean, we might have to hold hands at some point in front of them, or kiss or _something_ to make it believable."

This Castiel seems to mull over thoroughly before nodding and answering with a resolute, "Yes, I'm sure."

Dean stares up at the ceiling, a mantra of _bad idea-bad idea-bad idea_ playing on repeat in his brain, but when he can't think of any other counters to Castiel's suggestion he turns to his best friend and says, "Okay. I'm game."

"It's settled then," Castiel states with finality, as if they've just agreed to a formal business deal. "Now your mother almost has breakfast ready downstairs. I'm to tell you to get your lazy ass out of bed."

"My mom said that?" Dean questions, because while his mother is no stranger to foul language, he can't recall a time hearing her use it like that.

"Your father," Castiel corrects.

"Oh," Dean says and when he realizes Castiel has officially had his first run in with John Winchester he says it again, " _Oh_. He better not have given you too much trouble." 

"He didn't," Castiel reassures.

"Are you sure? Cause he can be a little..." Dean trails off trying to find the right word to describe his dad. He loves the man with all his heart, remembers a time he wanted to be just like him, but John Winchester is not the most openly loving person Dean's ever met to say the least.

"Gruff?" Castiel offers, "Yes, I've gathered. But, I assure you he was polite, now please shower so we can go downstairs. I'm hungry."

"Okay, okay," Dean gripes as he rolls out of bed, adding, "You're a _bossy_ boyfriend." When he looks at Castiel's face, the other teen's expression can only be described as _smug_. 

In the shower, Dean closes his eyes as the hot water pounds against his back, working loose the tight muscles he garnered from a night of trying to sleep as still as possible, so as not to end up winding himself around his best friend.

It had been a long, restless night.

When he pads back into the bedroom, dressed for the day and hungry as a horse, Castiel is sitting on their bed reading a weathered paperback book.

"You ready?" Dean asks shoving his dirty clothes into the hamper his mother set up in the closet.

Castiel's eyes flick up from his book. "Yes," he says with a nod.

"Should we establish some ground rules before we go down? What we can and can't do?"

Castiel is quiet for a moment before nodding. "That seems appropriate," he agrees.

Dean nods too, racking his brain for anything he wouldn't feel comfortable doing with Cas. When he comes up with nothing he's both pleased and terrified by what that means. "No groping me in front of my family," he finally says with a smirk on his face, because the rules were his idea in the first place and not having any seems counterproductive.

Castiel's cheeks go red. "I can assure you that is _not_ something you'll need to worry about."

 "I'm still going to keep an eye on you," Dean jokes and then asks, "What about you?"

Castiel shrugs. "I suppose just treat me as if I were your real boyfriend," he says.

Dean rolls his eyes. "No shit, Sherlock, isn't that the whole point?"

"Yes, Dean," Castiel retorts with an edge of irritation in his voice that makes Dean smile for reasons he can't even begin to comprehend. "I only meant it's okay to act naturally. If you feel like holding my hand, hold my hand, if you feel like hugging me, hug me."

"Fair enough," Dean says.

"Okay."

Dean pulls a plaid shirt on over his t-shirt while Castiel marks his place in his book and then they're heading for the bedroom door. Dean's hand is on the knob, about to swing the door open, when Castiel catches his arm and pulls him backwards. His eyes are wide, sheer terror in them as he swallows.

"Cas, what's wrong?"

"I've changed my mind," Castiel states. "Can we just start with holding hands or-" Castiel takes a deep breath, "anything, but kissing? I've never kissed anyone before, and I don't want to make a fool of myself in front of your family."

Dean's brain stutters to a halt as he asks, "You've never kissed anyone before?"

Castiel rubs at the back of his neck and averts his eyes. "I've never had occasion," he finally says.

Dean stares at his best friend for a few seconds, processing that bit of information before asking, "Cas, have you dated anyone? Ever?"

Castiel is slow to shake his head, but when he does Dean feels like the floor is going to fall right out from underneath him. He suddenly feels like complete and utter shit over the idea that Castiel's first significant other isn't even real and that it's Dean nonetheless.

"Fuck," Dean mutters. "Are you sure you want to do this? I can go tell them right now, it's not-"

"I'm sure," Castiel states, not bothering to let Dean finish. "Just no kissing. At least not right now anyway. If- if that's alright."

Dean pushes all of the air out of his lungs as he nods, "Okay, sure. No big deal," and then he grabs Castiel's arms in his hands. "Just relax, okay? I'm not going to make you do anything you don't want to do."

"Thank you," Castiel states, sliding his arms in Dean's grasp until his hands are in Dean's. He gives Dean's hands a light squeeze and then offers, "I trust you."

The weight of the words hits Dean and he nods, unsure of what to say in return. They stand there in silence for a moment determining once more that they're ready and then step out into the hall.


	4. Chapter 4

Dean spends most of breakfast with a nervous twitch in his leg, bouncing it incessantly underneath the table as John asks questions about him and Cas from where he sits at the head of the table. His father's face is lined and tired from a night shift at the station, but his eyes are alive with curiosity. 

He doesn't seem to pick up on the fact that Castiel's fork clatters to his plate in surprise when Dean says, "Hey, babe, pass the syrup?" But it may be due to the fact he's too busy asking so many damn questions.

"Where is it that you met?" John asks around a bite of eggs and bacon, and Dean panics for a split second because details of their relationship are not things he and Castiel had discussed, but then Dean realizes all he has to do is answer honestly.

"Cas works at a coffee shop on campus," he explains. "I ducked in one day when it was raining and I didn't have an umbrella. Thought it'd be busier ‘cause it was cold out, but the place was dead. Cas was behind the register with his nose in a book, just like always." Dean chances a smile at his best friend and finds the other teen staring down at his breakfast plate with a soft smile on his face and slightly flushed cheeks.

"Anyway," Dean continues, "we just kind of hit it off and he hasn't been able to get rid of me since, huh, Cas?" Dean finishes, smiling in Castiel's direction again.

"Unfortunately," Castiel answers.

Mary joins them at the table, setting down a mug of fresh coffee in front of each of them before dishing some breakfast onto her plate.

"Dean told us you're an anthropology major," she tells Castiel. "Have you picked a focus yet?"

"I want to be a professor while leading my own anthropological research," Castiel answers, his eyes lighting up like they always do when he talks about schooling and his career choice. The thing is, Castiel may be into some boring shit (in Dean's opinion), but the way he talks about his major, with rapture in his voice and excitement in his eyes, Dean can't help but listen with both ears every time.

John grunts from the other side of the table. "Sounds pretty fancy," he comments, his voice dripping with disapproval because in John Winchester's opinion, hard labor jobs are the only ones worth any respect these days. Mary offers her husband a look, and Dean opens his mouth to snap at his dad, but a movement under the table stops him. He looks down to find Castiel's hand on his leg, warm and comforting, and he can't look away. It's not as if it's never happened before, Cas has always been a pretty touchy feely guy, but this feels different somehow and it sends Dean's heart beating wildly.

"Actually," Castiel counters smoothly, "it's much more than just poring over books. There's quite a bit of grunt work involved and quite frankly that's the part I look forward to the most. Surely you can appreciate someone who gets their hands dirty for a living, right Mr. Winchester?"

A balloon of pride swells in Dean's chest over Castiel's quiet bravery. Others would have cowered in John Winchester's presence and scuttled away with their tail tucked embarrassingly between their legs or lashed out in anger, but not Cas. Instead Castiel attempts to get on John's level while demanding respect all in the same breath, and it's something no one Dean's ever brought home has done before.

"What kind of grunt work?" John asks, a hint of mild interest in his voice.

As Castiel dives into a lengthy explanation of what exactly it is he would be doing if he were to go into his chosen career, Dean lets his hand rest on top of Castiel's. Their fingers slot together like two pieces of a puzzle and while he's not sure why he does it, his parents can't even see the gesture, it feels nice to know he's not alone in this. ...Whatever "this" is.

After breakfast, John shuffles off to bed, and Mary sends Dean and Castiel to the grocery store to pick up a few things she needs for Sam’s End of School party that weekend.

As they drive through town with Led Zeppelin II in the tape deck, Dean points out some of his old childhood haunts to Castiel. He shows him where he went to high school and elementary school and the diner he and his friends used to frequent after dances or late night gaming extravaganzas. Castiel takes it all in with wide, absorbing eyes, and it makes Dean want to reach out and take his best friend’s hand in his again, to feel the warmth of Castiel’s fingers squeezing his own. But they’re alone now, no family members to convince they’re together, and so without the excuse, Dean keeps his hands planted firmly on the steering wheel.

When they've passed all of the places Dean has anything to say about, the cab falls silent, Castiel glancing out the windows and Dean tapping along to the beat against the steering wheel. There are so many things running through his head at that moment: breakfast with his parents, how this whole shenanigan will affect his and Castiel’s friendship after summer is over, the fact that Castiel’s never kissed anyone before- and before he knows it, the words are tumbling out of his mouth, “So about this having never kissed anyone thing-" The words are barely out when Dean sees Castiel stiffen next to him.

“It’s okay, dude,” Dean offers. “I’m not judgin’, just curious is all.”

Castiel relaxes, but only marginally.

“So you uh-” Dean glances over at his best friend briefly before averting his eyes back to the road, “You worried you'll be bad at it, or what?”

Castiel’s hands go to his knees where he grips them tightly. “I suppose it’s because I’ve never found anyone I’ve wanted to kiss before,” he states.

“Never?” Dean wonders. “Not even when you were a kid or a teenager with raging hormones?” 

Castiel shakes his head and looks at Dean. “Never,” he confirms.

He looks troubled, like this has been an issue before and Dean’s heart clenches at the thought of his best friend, the most kind-hearted person he’s ever met, being given shit over things he has or has not done with another person.

“Hey,” Dean says quietly as he pulls into a spot in the grocery store parking lot. He kills the engine on the Impala and waits until Castiel’s gaze is on his again. “You’ll find someone,” Dean assures him. The words burn coming out; the idea of Castiel with someone makes Dean feel happy for his best friend, but the idea of not having Castiel mostly to himself like he's grown accustomed to over the past few months leaves Dean feeling uneasy.

A smile alights on Castiel’s face as he nods. “I know,” he states.

“Alright,” Dean says, offering Castiel a smile of his own. “Enough with the feelings crap. Let’s go.”

They spend the rest of the afternoon grocery shopping and getting Castiel acclimated with Lawrence (with Dean promising to take him to some of his old hangouts at some point over the summer) and by the time they get home, it's nearly three in the afternoon.

When Sam gets home from school, he brings with him Dean's high school best friend, Charlie, who runs at Dean in a blur of red hair and a peal of excitement that makes Dean wince around his smile. Castiel scoots out of the way as Charlie practically leaps into Dean's arms, throwing her arms around his neck and talking about a mile a minute.

Dean only catches bits and pieces of what she's saying, phrases like _haven't raided in ages_ and _the guild needs you_ jumping out at him while the rest melts together and sloshes around between Dean's ears in a meaningless chatter.

When she finally stops to breathe Dean holds her at arm's length and smiles down at her. "I missed you too, nerd," he says.

She pulls away and slugs him playfully in the arm. "I didn't say I missed you," she points out, a smile stretching across her face.

"Didn't have to," Dean tells her. At his side, Castiel shifts on his feet and Charlie's eyes avert to him. Dean's told Charlie about Castiel before, but in the hustle and bustle of finals and the last minute planning that brought Castiel to Lawrence in the first place Dean hadn't gotten a chance to mention he was bringing him home for the summer.

"Charlie, this is my boyfriend, Cas," Dean says, the lie rolling off of his tongue so smoothly he almost believes it himself.

Charlie's already got a hand outstretched towards Castiel, but when Dean makes the introduction her eyes go wide.

" _Boyfriend_ ," she repeats, smirking at Dean. "I _knew_ you had the hots for him. And I was right," she states, her gaze falling on Castiel again, "He _is_ dreamy."

Dean shakes his head, ignoring the flutter of nerves in his stomach over Charlie's statement, and watches as Castiel awkwardly accepts Charlie's hand, and then before Dean can protest, Charlie is whisking him away from Dean and into the living room. Castiel shoots Dean a glance over his shoulder as Charlie tugs him along, but Dean merely shrugs and offers him a smile and a thumbs up.

Whatever it is Charlie has to say, Dean trusts Castiel to keep their secret.

Sam, who's had his head in the fridge since he walked through the front door, closes the fridge with a soda can in hand and eyes on Dean.

"You didn't tell Charlie you and Cas were dating?" he asks, his voice laced with suspicion. 

Dean's heart rate picks up, but he attempts to mask his nervousness from Sam with a shrug. "Wanted it to be a surprise," he says.

"But she's your best friend," Sam points out.

"Doesn't mean she has to know everything," Dean counters. "Besides, me and Cas is kind of a new thing. I didn't want to jump the gun by running my mouth about a boyfriend I didn't officially have."

Sam sighs and shakes his head. "You're weird," he mutters as he puts the soda to his lips. Dean grabs it out of Sam's hands before his brother can tip it back and takes a long swig, letting out an exaggerated sigh after he swallows.

"Who's weird now, moose?" Dean asks before sauntering out of the kitchen, soda can still in hand.

"Dean that doesn't even make sense!" Sam shouts after him, petulance edging into his voice. "And give me back my Coke!"

Dean chuckles and doesn't look back.

Charlie stays for dinner, per Mary's request, and then convinces Dean, Castiel and Sam into several rounds of video games.

They settle down in the den in front of the rickety Magnavox television and set up one of the old gaming consoles the Winchesters have kept from over the years. Dean and Charlie argue over what to play while Sam keeps suggesting _Super Mario Kart_ in the background.

"Cas, what do you think?" Dean asks as he holds up the games. " _Mortal Kombat_ , _Earthbound_ , or _Super Mario Kart_?"

Castiel eyes the game covers carefully before answering, "The only one I've ever even heard of is the car one."

Dean groans and Charlie's mouth falls open, but Sam claps Castiel on the back with a satisfied grin on his face and an elated, "I knew I could count on you."

They set the game up Mario GP style and let Castiel pick the Cup (he chooses the Star Cup) before picking their characters and vehicles. When Castiel selects Toad as his character Dean nudges at his shoulder.

"You sure you want that guy, babe?" he asks, surprising himself at how easy it has been to fall into 'boyfriend mode' with Castiel. "He's pretty slow."

"I like his hat," Castiel points out. 

"It's not a hat, Cas, it's his head."

"Well, I like it," Castiel says, staying firm in his decision.

"Whatever," Dean mutters. He gives Castiel a run down on all the controls, their fingers brushing amiably over Castiel's controller, and a few hints about the game, but once they all hit the starting line, it's every person for themselves.

Normally Dean's able to absorb himself in any game, even if it is _Super Mario Kart_ , and focus on his main goal - winning - but with Castiel pressed up against his side, maneuvering his controller this way and that like it's an actual steering wheel, Dean can barely concentrate on anything else.  

When Castiel takes second on the first track and first in the two that follow, Dean eyes him suspiciously. "You sure you've never played this before?"

Castiel shrugs. "It's a fairly simple game, Dean," he states.

"Tell that to Sammy," Dean says throwing a grin over his shoulder at his brother. "How's my ass look from back there in 7th?"

"Shut up, Dean," Sam murmurs.

At the end of the night, when Castiel's character is hoisting a golden winner's cup above his head with confetti raining down on him, everyone sits and stares at the screen in awe.

"Dean, your boyfriend can stay," Charlie states in approval. 

Dean wraps his arm around Castiel's shoulders and squeezes him against his side. "Hear that, Cas?" he asks. "You've earned the approval of the Red Queen."

The smile that builds on Castiel's face is genuine and pleased, and Dean feels just as proud of him now as he would if Castiel really were his boyfriend.

Sam grumbles from behind them.

They only have time for one cup before Mary is poking her head down the stairs and telling Sam it's time for bed. Charlie takes that as her cue to leave, having to get up in the morning for school herself, but she doesn't leave before pulling Dean into another hug, her tiny frame crushing Dean's own, and then hugging Castiel too.

"I demand a rematch soon," Charlie says with a smile when they pull away. "There's no way I'm letting you get away with beating me. Especially not with Toad as your character." 

A smile spreads across Castiel's face as he nods at her. "Deal," he says and then she's heading out the front door and pulling out of the driveway.

Dean and Castiel don't stay up much later themselves. Castiel reads for just under an hour while Dean logs on to his school account to check and see if his final grades have been posted, but when they're finally tucked in to bed, Dean's brain won't shut off. 

He lies on his back, eyes fixed on the ceiling, as the day's events replay in his mind. He and Castiel have successfully made it through a full day as fake boyfriends and while Dean's relieved they got away with it, something doesn't sit right in his chest.

Sitting close to Castiel, holding his hand, using terms of endearment, it all feels so natural for Dean, like it's the only thing that's been missing between the two of them since nearly the beginning of their friendship; but Dean can't shake the fact that in three months, when the summer is over and they're back at school, everything is going to go back to the way it was before. After just one day of being Castiel's boyfriend, somehow Dean already knows it won't be enough.

Dean turns his head to glance at his best friend. Castiel's lying on his side, his eyes closed, but his breathing doesn't seem heavy enough for him to be asleep.

"Hey, Cas, you uh- you awake?" Dean asks quietly.

"Barely," Castiel answers around a yawn. 

Dean averts his gaze back to the ceiling as he wonders, "Do you still think this whole boyfriend thing is such a good idea?" 

"Does it make you uncomfortable?" Castiel questions. 

Dean contemplates before answering, "No, but isn't it going to be weird when summer is over? Between you and me? I don't want it to be weird between us. You're my best friend. I don't want to fuck that up." 

"Why would this make things weird?" Castiel asks. 

"I don't know," Dean says. It's a lie, he knows exactly why it would make things weird, but saying the words out loud seem too close to a confession Dean still isn't sure he fully understands.

Castiel is quiet next to him for a moment that seems to stretch on and on, but then his hand is reaching out and squeezing Dean's shoulder as he says with fading volume, "You'll always be my best friend, Dean."

Not long after Dean falls asleep with a smile on his face and a bit of a weight lifted from his chest.


	5. Chapter 5

Mid-morning light is peeking through the curtains when Dean begins to stir the next day. Castiel's face is smashed up against Dean's shoulder, and he's hogging all the blankets just like he said he would, but Dean's not fully awake enough to form an opinion on either. He turns on his side, curling towards his best friend for warmth, and Castiel wiggles in his sleep until he's right up against Dean, burrowing against his chest and slotting a leg in-between Dean's.

Dean's brain is fogging over with sleep again, the muddled thought of how nice Castiel feels against him floating through his thoughts, when Dean registers arousal pump through him as Castiel shifts his leg under the covers- the same leg that is pressing firmly between Dean's legs 

Dean's eyes fly open as he bolts upright in bed and stares down at his best friend in horror.   

Castiel is blinking up at him, his blue eyes hazy and his brow furrowed. 

Dean's stomach rolls over, and he's afraid he might actually vomit. He scrambles from the bed and begins to pace the floor, tugging at his hair and unable to meet Castiel's eyes, a mantra of _ShitShitShitFuckShitFuckShit_ rattling around in his skull.

When he finally looks back to the bed Castiel is sitting up, his gaze tired but sure on Dean's pacing form. "Dean, what-" 

But Dean doesn't stick around to listen, retreating to the bathroom and slamming the door behind him, shutting out Castiel's rough morning voice and the look of confusion in his eyes. He starts the shower with shaking hands and once under the hot spray wraps his hand around his arousal, feeling guilty as hell when wide blue eyes and strong shoulders fill his thoughts.

When Dean pads out of the bathroom wrapped in a robe and with hair still wet, he sits on the edge of the bed closest to where his best friend has his nose stuffed in the same book he was reading the day before, his pair of Wayfarer frames perched on his nose.

He looks up at Dean, his hair still sleep mussed, his white shirt a little wrinkled, but his eyes still harbor that same confusion they did when Dean had run away like a coward. "Is everything alright?" he asks.

"I uh-" Dean coughs nervously and runs a hand over his mouth, searching for the words he means to say. "I'm sorry about my-" he stops again, this time falling silent. 

Castiel's eyes bore into him for what seems like hours before understanding dawns on his face.

" _Oh_ ," he says quietly.

"Yeah," Dean croaks, "Sorry. I didn't realize and then you-" the words die on his tongue.

At that Castiel clicks his tongue against his teeth and rolls his eyes as he climbs out of bed. "Dean, it's perfectly natural," he states. "I may be a virgin, but I am certainly not a prude."

A breath of air gushes from Dean's lungs when he realizes Castiel isn't upset with him. "Just didn't want you to think I was trying to take advantage of you or something," Dean explains.

Castiel shakes his head, "Quite the opposite. I thought you were angry with me for-" he stops.

Dean raises an eyebrow, amusement sparking in his expression. "For what, Cas?'

"You know what I mean, Dean," Castiel grumbles.

"For cuddling me into oblivion?" Dean asks.

Castiel's cheeks turn a rosy color as his eyes find the floor. "Yes," he says quietly.

"Nah," Dean says with a smile. "Had to stay warm _somehow_ , turns out my best friend is a blanket hoarder."

Castiel looks at Dean, a smile of his own playing at his lips. "I warned you," he points out.

"Now I know you weren't lying."

Castiel shrugs and enters the bathroom leaving Dean alone to do what he can to keep himself from replaying again and again how warm and soft Castiel was sprawled out against him.

When the bathroom door opens and Castiel comes out, Dean expects him to be fully dressed like he was the day before. Instead Castiel has a towel slung low on his hips and Dean suddenly can't breathe, his eyes glued to the droplets of water dripping from his hair and streaking across his collarbone.

His brain gets caught on the idea of what it would feel like to close his mouth over that collarbone, lave at the water with his tongue, and perhaps leave a beautiful, rose colored bruise in his wake...

Dean's eyes snap to Castiel's. "You should get dressed," he chokes out, standing from the bed and grateful as all get out he got dressed while Castiel showered. It would be nearly impossible for him to bolt while still in his robe. "I'll meet you downstairs."

Castiel offers him a funny look before nodding and then Dean is out the door.

~

Dean remains standoffish for the rest of the morning. He feels guilty, not wanting to push his best friend away, but after everything that happened that morning he's feeling a little confused and a lot like he's maybe already in this thing too deep for his own good.

Castiel doesn't seem to mind, immersing himself in his book and staying mostly out of Dean's way, but by late afternoon Dean itches with the need to be close to his best friend again so he shuffles his way to where Castiel sits on the couch and rests his weight on the arm of the furniture.

"Hey, Cas, you wanna go for a drive? I got some place I think you'll like."

Castiel looks up at him from his book, the frames he wears for reading somehow making his eyes stand out even more. "You're ready to speak to me now?" he asks.

Dean sighs. "Come on," he says, "I'll explain in the car."

Castiel nods, marking his place with an Espresso Self receipt, and stands to follow Dean.

"Mom, Cas and I are going out!" Dean shouts across the house, hoping his voice will carry into the office.

He hears a faint, "Be home in time for dinner!" before he leads Castiel out into the sticky, summer heat and they climb into the Impala.

As they drive, Castiel doesn't speak and Dean knows he's waiting for the explanation that was promised to him. Dean twists his grip around the steering wheel nervously before taking a deep breath.

"So about earlier," he starts. "I know I was being an ass, I just-" he scrubs a hand over his mouth, "I’m just trying to figure this whole thing out, and it's giving me weird thoughts, and I don't know how to deal with them." Once the words are finally out Dean wants to suck them all back in and light them on fire until they're nothing but ashes inside of him.

"Dean, has anyone ever told you you need relax?" Castiel asks, the edges of his mouth quirking into a smile.

Dean shrugs, "I don't know, maybe. Why?"

Castiel unbuckles his seatbelt and slides across the bench until he's seated right next to Dean. He places a hand on Dean's leg. "Is this weird?" Castiel asks. "Do you feel uncomfortable when I touch you like this?"

Dean shoots a glance at where Castiel's hand is warm against his thigh before answering honestly, "No."

"What about when we held hands at breakfast. Was that weird?" 

"I mean, we've never held hands before," Dean points out, "but... no. It didn't feel weird."

"Then what is there to figure out, Dean? I told you to act as if you really were my boyfriend, and that's what you're doing, yes?"

"Well yeah, but-"

"But nothing, Dean. You aren't making me feel uncomfortable, and I find nothing weird about your behavior. So you had morning wood; that's normal. You didn't do anything inappropriate."

The words 'morning wood' sound foreign rolling off of Castiel's tongue, and Dean does his best not to chuckle. "Yeah, I guess," he agrees.

"So would you please stop overthinking things and just relax?" 

Dean is quiet for a moment, mulling over Castiel's words. "Way to psychoanalyze me, Cas," Dean finally mutters, deciding Castiel is right and that he needs to just calm down. If Castiel doesn't think this is going to end badly, well, then Dean will just have to trust him for now.

Castiel smiles and nods once in satisfaction and then slides back to his own seat, clicking his seat belt back into place and turning up the radio.

About twenty minutes later, Dean turns off of the main road and onto a gravel drive that winds down into a small valley. Castiel looks out the window in interest and when Dean steals a glance at him, he smiles to himself. His best friend may be more on the quiet side, but keeping his emotions off his face has never been a strong point for Castiel; curiosity is practically rolling off of him in waves.

Dean pulls them into a dirt parking lot and kills the engine before telling Castiel, "We're here," and pushing open his door and stepping out into the afternoon sun. 

There are trees surrounding them, blocking out the view of what Dean wants Castiel to see, but when they pass the threshold of foliage, Castiel's eyes fall upon the sight. He pauses in his steps and turns to Dean, a wide grin stretched across his face, gums showing and everything.

"How did you know I like cemeteries?" Castiel wonders.

Dean shrugs. "You like learning about dead people," he explains. He begins walking backwards into the cemetery, his eyes still trained on Castiel, and throws his arms open wide. "Here's a whole bunch of them. And, bonus points," Dean says, "this is one of the oldest cemeteries in Lawrence, so we got some really old dudes under our feet."

Castiel shakes his head, and follows Dean onto the cemetery grounds, awe clearly written in his features. He's a few feet in before he stops. "Dean, wait," he says. "Do you have any paper? I'd like to do some rubbings."

They fish out a mostly used spiral bound notebook from the backseat of Dean's car and a number two pencil that's seen better days and begin walking along the long lines of old, stone headstones of the cemetery.

It's mostly quiet outside, with only the buzz of insects and crunch of dirt beneath their feet as they walk, but it's nice, easy, calm. Dean takes the opportunity to dust the angsty cobwebs of thoughts out of his mind, attempting to apply Castiel's suggestion -   _relax_. They pause every now and then for Castiel to rub some of the information from the older headstones into the notebook Dean gave him. Dean marvels at Castiel's excitement over just about every person in the cemetery. It's fascinating watching his best friend in his element and Dean absorbs it greedily.

Every now and then, Castiel will point out someone who was buried in the late 1800s or early 1900s, a touch of wonder in his voice, but aside from that they don't speak, neither of them wanting to disrupt the reverent eeriness in the air.

They stop for a while when it gets too hot , taking up residency on a bench that's been conveniently placed under a tree, and looking out at the miles of earth and stone in front of them. It's peaceful here, just the two of them, and Dean is grateful for moments like these that remind him just why Castiel is his best friend.

After a moment, Castiel scoots in close to Dean and rests his head on Dean's shoulder, a sigh falling from his lips. "Thank you for doing this, Dean," he says quietly. 

Something light and happy trills through Dean's body and he shifts until Castiel is just that much closer to him. "Anything for my fake-boyfriend," Dean jokes, and while their day may have started off awkward and stilted, this definitely helps put Dean's mind at ease.

Back at home, Castiel goes straight for his laptop, typing in the names and dates he got from some of the headstones that day and researching each person's history while Dean helps his mom with dinner.

"Did you and Castiel have fun today?" Mary asks as she hands Dean a cutting board and a knife. 

Dean starts pulling vegetables out of plastic bags and preparing them to be cut as he answers, "Yeah, we did. Cas is really into peoples’ history and shi- stuff, so I took him down to Oak Hill. He loved it."

"That was thoughtful of you."

Dean shrugs and gets to work on an onion. "If Cas is happy, I'm happy," he states, and even if they weren't fake-dating, Dean’s answer would still stand.

"I can tell," Mary says, the words making Dean stop and turn to face his mom. A knowing smile graces her lips, and there's something crackling behind her eyes that makes guilt twist in Dean's gut. He doesn't like lying to his mom - hell, he doesn't like lying to anyone - but his mom has always been there for him, taken care of him, given everything he ever needed from her. Lying feels so cheap and ungrateful. 

For a split second Dean thinks about blurting out his and Castiel's whole secret, but then a dark selfishness creeps into his chest and settles itself there. If he confesses, that means he and Castiel go back to being 'just friends,' with all the warm touches, the excuses to sit close enough to smell Cas' aftershave, the luxuries of pretending he's dating the single most awesome guy on the planet, all disappear, and Dean just can't handle that. Instead of confessing, Dean buries the lie deep inside of himself, away from stumbling lips and an over eager conscience, and silently returns her smile.


	6. Chapter 6

The rest of the week passes more smoothly and by the time the weekend rolls around, Dean's become so accustomed to treating Castiel like his boyfriend, he almost forgets their relationship isn't real.

On Saturday, John takes the afternoon off from the shop that he runs with Bobby when the aren't at the station or patrolling. He and the three boys spend the day transforming the backyard into a Sam-approved space to host his End of School party in.

John and Dean string lights across one corner of the backyard while Sam and Castiel drag patio chairs out from the garage and hose them down.

John has set up an old radio for them outside, Aerosmith blaring from the speakers, and as Dean watches Cas work, he’s pleased knowing Castiel has fallen into Dean's family like he's always belonged.

"So, Sam-" Dean calls out across the yard. He's fixing a strand of lights to the fence while John stretches it across the corner and secures it on the opposite side.  "You trying to impress somebody with this whole shindig tonight, or what?"

"What makes you think that?" Sam asks as he comes to stand next to Dean, his eyes surveying Dean and John's work.

"I don't know," Dean admits, "I never did anything like this when I was in high school, but I think I would have if I was trying to impress somebody." He wiggles his eyebrows at his brother suggestively.

"You and your _guild_ were too busy playing video games to do anything like this," Sam points out; the word 'guild' comes out dripping in sarcasm. 

"That wasn't a 'no', Sammy."

Sam sighs and it's all longsuffering and worn out, as if Dean's been hounding him all day about the matter. "No, Dean. I just wanted to do something cool for my friends, okay?"

At that moment Mary sticks her head out the sliding glass door. "Sam! Jess Moore's mother just called to say she'll be here tonight." Her voice carries across the yard and Dean watches as a goofy smile creeps it's way onto Sam's face.

"Okay, thanks Mom!"

"Well I know _that_ smile," Dean states, bending to pick up another strand of lights. "Is that who this is all for? Jess Moore? I remember her - pretty little thing."

"Shut up, Dean," Sam grumbles before stomping off across the yard, his cheeks burning as he goes. 

"Maybe you'll get to first base tonight!" Dean shouts after him with a satisfied smile. His brother flips him the bird and gets back to work on the patio chairs.

By the time everything is set up, the backyard looks amazing, and Dean's almost jealous he didn't do something like this when he was in high school. But Sam was right, Dean did play a lot of video games at that time in his life, and raids with his guild are still some of his fondest memories.

Dean walks across the yard to where Castiel is seated in a patio chair and heaves himself into the one next to him, sighing contentedly. It feels good to finally be off of his feet.

"Whadaya think, Cas?" Dean asks, kicking his legs out in front of him and tilting his head back on the chair. There's a cool breeze floating through the yard and Dean revels in the feel of it brushing across his nose and cheeks. 

"I think you should show me around your treehouse," Castiel answers. 

"Yeah?" Dean asks. He had noticed Castiel eyeing his and Sam's old treehouse all day with curious eyes, but up until now he hadn't considered the fact Castiel might actually want to go inside. 

"Yes," Castiel responds as he stands from his chair and cuts across the yard towards the treehouse, resting in the corner opposite the lights. 

Dean follows him until Castiel stops at the treehouse and its hanging wooden ladder. 

"After you," Dean says with a gesture at the entrance. 

Castiel nods once and then fixes his hands to the highest rungs he can reach and begins to climb. Dean goes after him, glancing up every now and then and getting an eyeful of Castiel's ass as he goes. It's a pretty nice ass, Dean decides --objectively speaking, of course. 

Once they're up in the tree house, Dean is hit with a wave of nostalgia. "Damn, it's been a long time since I've been up here," he mutters as he looks around. Things are just as he remembers them to be - a couple of well-used bean bags in each corner with comic books and old Hardy Boy novels scattered all across one end. 

"This was my side," Dean states, dropping into the bean bag he always occupied when he and Sam spent their days in the tree house. 

Castiel looks down at the books and comics with a smirk on his face. "I can tell," he says. He settles into Sam's bean bag and looks around. "I always wanted a treehouse when I was younger," he confesses. 

"How come you never had one?" 

Castiel shrugs, "Mother said they weren't practical for children. She was worried one of us would fall, or that after we'd all grown up it would take up unnecessary space in the backyard." 

"That sounds kinda shitty," Dean admits. He doesn't know a lot about Castiel's childhood - the other teen very rarely offers up details - but from what he's gathered, Castiel lived in a pretty strict home. 

Castiel shrugs again and falls silent, and suddenly Dean wants to be close to him, to wrap his arms around him and squeeze out all the quiet sadness etched into Castiel's features. "Hey," he says, and when Castiel looks at him Dean bobs his head to the side, "C'mere." 

Castiel hesitates only a second before lifting himself out of Sam's bean bag and taking the couple of steps it takes to get him across the treehouse to Dean. Dean scoots over in his bean bag and pats the empty space next to him. "Sit with me," he says. 

There really isn't room for the two of them, but once Castiel is on the bean bag, Dean curls an arm around Castiel's shoulders and pulls him against his side. Castiel takes the hint, turning into Dean's side, wrapping an arm around Dean's middle, and resting his head on Dean's chest. 

Dean isn't sure why they keep doing stuff like this - holding hands when no one can see, cuddling against each other when they're alone - and while he half hopes Sam comes up so Dean can justify the gesture, he’s also secretly relieved when he doesn't. 

"For a guy who frowns so much, you're a pretty big cuddle monster," Dean says, because the silence allows his mind to wander too much. 

"I like to be close to you," Castiel states. He says it so plainly, as if Dean should know this already, and it makes the corners of Dean's mouth tug up. 

"You big softie," he mutters, blatantly ignoring the depth of Castiel’s statement.

~

Sam's friends begin arriving around eight that evening when the sun is finally beginning to set and the sky is streaked with picturesque pinks and purples. 

Dean and Castiel have commandeered a bench and a cooler of soda, and as each guest arrives, Dean tells Cas what he knows about them. Sometimes it's very little, sometimes it's a lot; either way, Castiel seems interested in all of their stories and therefore listens raptly. 

For the most part, Sam's friends leave Dean and Castiel alone, content to mingle with one another rather than drift, but when Jo Harvelle shows up, she says hi to Sam before making a beeline straight for Dean. 

"Hey, Winchester," she says with a broad smile. 

"Well, well, well," Dean says, standing to give Jo a hug. "If it isn't little Joanna Beth." 

"I'm not so little anymore," she announces with a hand on her hip. If Dean had been the same guy he was two summers ago, he would have looked her up and down, taken the time to appreciate just how much Jo Harvelle _really_ has grown up, or made an offhanded comment about the fact that it’s clear she no longer needs her training bras, but now, with Castiel pressing against him shoulder to hip, the desire to do so simply isn't there. 

"Yeah," Dean agrees, "I can see your face finally grew into your nose." 

His comment earns him a punch on the shoulder from Jo, but she shakes her head good-naturedly and turns to extend a hand to Castiel. 

"I'm Jo," she says.

"Castiel," he replies, “Dean's _boyfriend_." The word comes out with a possessive edge that sends a shock of excitement through Dean's insides. Who would have guessed Cas was the jealous type? 

"So you do exist!" Jo exclaims. "Sam said Dean brought someone home with him, but I told him there was no way I was buying a word of it until I'd seen him with my own eyes." 

"What's that supposed to mean?" Dean asks defensively. 

Jo shrugs, "Just didn't think you were the settling down type," she offers. "Guess I was wrong." 

"You usually are," Dean points out. 

Jo's eyes narrow and she sticks out her tongue defiantly before bounding off to the snack table on the opposite side of the yard. 

When Jo's out of earshot Dean turns his attention to Cas with eyebrows raised. "Nice display of jealous boyfriend," he says. "If I didn't know better, I would’ve thought you were serious." 

"She was flirting with you, Dean," Castiel states, his mouth tugging into a frown. 

Dean smirks, "Don't worry babe, I've only got eyes for you." He wraps an arm around Castiel's neck, tugging him closer and pressing a kiss to Castiel's temple. 

Not long after Jo’s exit, Charlie joins them, going straight for the cooler of soda at their feet. "I knew you'd have all the good stuff," she says, bending to scoop a can out of the ice. She flicks the tab open and takes a swig. 

"What are you _lovebirds_ doing all the way over here? Don't you want to hang out with all the really cool high schoolers?" She rolls her eyes and laughs at her own statement and adds, "What am I saying, even I don't want to hang out with them, and I _am_ one." 

"I've got some comic books up in the tree house," Dean offers, "we could take the cooler up." 

Charlie narrows her eyes. "DC or Marvel?" 

"Little bit of everything." 

A grin stretches across her face, "Sounds like a party." 

The three of them wait until Sam is deeply invested in a conversation with Jessica Moore - which isn't hard considering they've been flirting all night - before hauling the cooler of soda over to the treehouse and hoisting it up the ladder. It's a bit of a scuffle, but they manage. Once inside, Dean immediately flops down into his bean bag. 

Charlie pushes the cooler so it's out of the way but still easily accessible before digging through Dean's stack of comics. 

"I'm going to go get my book," Cas says, and then he's disappearing down the rungs of the ladder and making his way across the backyard. 

"So..." Charlie says when Dean is alone with her. There's intent behind her voice and it terrifies Dean, but he doesn't comment on it, too afraid that if he does, he'll end up spilling his guts to her. 

One of the things Dean didn't take into account when he agreed to be fake-boyfriends with Castiel was the fact that not only were they going to have to lie to Dean's family, they were going to have to lie to anyone they came in contact with throughout the entire summer, including a one Charlie Bradbury who's always somehow known Dean better than he knows himself. 

"So _what_ , your majesty?" Dean asks, laying on the sarcasm as thick as he can.

"So, Cas seems nice," she says. She's got an issue of Wonder Woman in her hands and is thumbing through it with a look of mild disgust on her face. "The women in these things are always so disproportioned," she mutters. "Give me a woman with a C cup in tight jeans and a tank top that's got eternities of snark, and I'd bang her over any of these unrealistic, spandex-wearing 'women'." 

"So basically Pamela Barnes," Dean points out, taking the opportunity to steer the conversation away from him and Castiel. 

Charlie blushes a deep shade of red at the mention of Pamela Barnes. Pamela was a girl in their guild who went away to school when Dean did; Charlie talked for weeks about 'the one that got away.’ 

"Pamela Barnes is a vision, okay? But that's completely beside the point, Dean. We're talking about you, remember?"

Dean sighs, "Why don't you just go ahead and say what it is you want to say, Charlie."

Charlie tosses the issue of Wonder Woman aside and fixes her gaze on Dean.

"Why don't _you_ just say what it is _you_ want to say, Dean." 

"I don't have anything to say."

"Are you sure? There's nothing you want to tell me? No _secrets_ you want to share? Because you know I'm a snoop, Dean Winchester, and when I don't have the answers, I do what I can to unearth them." 

They stare at each other, both strong willed and stubborn, before Dean finally releases all the air  from his lungs and slumps back into his chair. 

"Fine!" he practically shouts, his hands flying up in the air. "Cas and I aren't really dating. But I'm sure you already knew that." The last part is grumbled in Charlie's direction. 

"I did," Charlie states with a smug smile on her face, "but what I can't figure out is why you two are lying about it." 

"It just kind of happened," Dean admits before launching into an explanation of how the invitation for Castiel to accompany him home turned into an episode of some hokey Monday night sitcom.   

Once Dean's explained everything, Charlie is quiet for a moment, biting at her lip before asking, "Why don't you two just get together for real? He seems to really like you, Dean, and if I know anything about you, which, let's be honest, I know everything about you, you seem to really like him." 

At that moment the tree house ladder creaks outside, and Castiel's dark mop of hair appears in the doorway. His cheeks are flushed from the heat, but he offers Dean and Charlie a smile as he climbs into the tree house. 

"Your mother needed help restocking the snacks," Castiel explains. 

"Oh, thanks for helping her, Cas." Dean smiles up at him. 

A silence falls around them, Castiel staring at Dean, Dean staring at Castiel, Charlie staring at Dean staring at Castiel, before Charlie clears her throat and widens her eyes, giving Dean a look. Dean scowls at her before looking back up at Castiel and realizing the other teen is waiting to be invited to sit by him again which is probably why Charlie was gawking at him. 

Dean says nothing, merely makes room for Castiel, pulling _Red Hood: The Lost Days_ into his lap and resisting the urge to flip off Charlie when she throws a knowing smile in their direction.    

Charlie shrugs and digs through Dean's comics some more before waving an issue of _The Tick_ in the air. "Finally, some quality!" she shouts. She settles into the bean bag chair opposite  Dean and Castiel, the three of them falling into an easy silence as they read. 

~

By the end of the night, the three of them have consumed far too much soda and bantered about all things geek related. Castiel stayed quiet through most of the conversations, but he tells Dean that his and Charlie's dynamic is quite interesting and assures Dean that he enjoys listening. 

Charlie sticks around to help clean up after the party is over - she and Castiel stack chairs in the backyard and gather trash, while Dean works in the kitchen, transferring the leftover food into storable containers and making room for it all in the fridge. 

As he works, he catches sight of Sam walking Jess to the door and pulling her in for a hug before she leaves. When Sam joins Dean in the kitchen, there's a big dopey grin on his face and a happy air about him. 

"Didja seal the deal?" Dean asks, scooping potato salad out of a serving bowl and into a Tupperware container. 

"What?" Sam asks. "No. Dean it's not-" he sighs, "We're just friends." 

"Really, Sammy? Cause I kinda think she likes you." 

"That's what Jo said too, but," Sam shrugs, "I don't know." 

"Oh, come on, Sam! She looks at you like you hung the moon." 

At that Sam turns to Dean, the goofy smile back on his face and hope in his eyes, "You mean the way Castiel looks at you?" 

The gears in Dean's brain grind to a halt. It's not the first time someone's mentioned something like that, but it still catches Dean off guard. He and Castiel are friends, of course they look at each other like they're important, but Dean gets the feeling that's not what Sam's implying. "Yeah Sammy," Dean finally says. "Just like that." 

"Really?" Sam questions. 

Dean nods his head, "Yeah. You should ask her out. Cas and I will double with you. We can go bowling or whatever hip thing it is the kids are doing these days." 

Sam rolls his eyes, "Wow, Dean. Only one year at college and already you've become so mature and wise." 

"Bitch," Dean mutters.

Sam smiles at him, "Jerk."


	7. Chapter 7

The next week, Sam gets up the guts to ask Jess out. She, of course, accepts and they set a date for that weekend.

About an hour before the date, Dean finds Sam in his bedroom surveying his face in the mirror. "Dean, do you think I need to shave?" he asks.

Dean snickers from behind him, leaning his weight against the door jamb and folding his arms over his chest. "What’s there to shave?" he asks.

Sam rolls his eyes and turns to face his brother.

"You nervous?" Dean asks.

Sam nods.

"Don't be," Dean tells him. "You're gonna be fine."

Sam nods again. "What was you and Cas' first date like?" he asks.

"Oh, um," Dean's mind blanks as he realizes technically _this_ will be their first date. Even if it is a fake one. "A lot like this, I guess. You know, I was totally awesome, he was a little bit nervous, but it all worked out."

"Did he shave for you?"

Dean thinks about the few times he's seen Castiel with scruff and smiles. "Nah, I kinda like him with a little bit of peach fuzz," he says.

"Did you guys hold hands?"

"Yep."

"Did you guys kiss?"

Dean quirks a smirk at his younger brother. "Definitely. Cas couldn't keep his hands off of me," he says.

"Ew, Dean! That's gross!" Sam's face is all scrunched and personally wronged, but Dean just chuckles.

"You asked!" Dean counters.

~

When they pick Jess up, Dean doesn't even have to tell Sam to get out and go to the door. He and Castiel watch out the window as Sam shifts on his feet, waiting for Jess to answer the door.

"He seems nervous," Castiel points out.

Dean lets out a laugh. "He's terrified!"

Sam walks Jess down the path with their arms linked together and opens the door for her like the perfect gentleman Dean's always taught him to be.

Jess greets Dean and Castiel as she slides into the back seat and Dean shoots her a smile in the rear view mirror. "Okay," he says, "everybody ready?"

"Where are we going?" Jess asks as Dean pulls away from the curb.

"Oh, Sam didn't tell you? I let him pick the place, hope you're okay with Chuck-E-Cheese!" Dean answers enthusiastically.

Sam groans from the back seat, and Castiel shoots Dean an amused smile.

They go to an old bowling alley downtown that's hosting black light lanes all night. The place is lit up with neon and swimming with teenagers enjoying their first weekend of summer break.

As they shoulder their way through the dark, Castiel runs smack dab into the hip of a girl shooting pool with a bunch of guys. When she turns around, Castiel opens his mouth to apologize, but Dean cuts him off.

"Pamela?"

"Dean Winchester," Pamela says with a smirk. "I haven't seen you in ages."

"You back for the summer?" Dean wonders. He waves Sam along to pay for their lanes, but presses his shoulder against Castiel's in hopes it will make his best friend stay. It does.

"Sure am, got back yesterday! What about you?"

Dean nods and Pamela's eyes flick to Castiel. "And who's this pretty little thing?" Pamela asks.

Castiel's face pulls into a scowl that causes Dean to shake his head and laugh. "This is my boyfriend, Cas," he says putting an arm around Castiel's shoulders. He's finding more and more that Castiel is increasingly compliant when Dean is touching him in one way or another.

"Nice to meet you, Cas. I'm Pamela."

Castiel offers Pamela a curt nod. "Hello, Pamela."

"So listen, a couple of friends are meeting down at Southern Comfort in a few hours. You guys should come -- we can catch up, all that good stuff." Pamela flashes Dean a wide smile and her teeth glow beneath the black lights.

"I'll have to check with Sam," Dean states. "We're kind of chaperoning his first date."

"How adorable," Pamela drawls. 

"You know who you should give a call though is Charlie. I bet she'd love to hear from you."

"Oh, Red Queen! I miss that girl."

"Like I said," Dean says with a knowing gleam in his eye, "give her a call."

From behind them one of the guys Pamela is with nudges at her shoulder with his pool stick. "It's your turn, Barnes," he says.

"I'll see you boys later, okay?"

"Call Charlie," Dean prods again. Pamela offers them both a wink, and then she's turning back to her game while Dean leads Castiel to where Sam and Jess are lacing up their bowling shoes.

"You certainly know a lot of women," Castiel points out as they walk, their shoulders brushing amiably.

"What can I say?" Dean asks. "The women love me."

The four of them decide to split up into two teams, couple against couple and as Sam sets up their names on the computer, Dean slides into the chair next to Castiel. Castiel is bent over, trading his street shoes for bowling shoes, but when he sits up Dean asks, "You any good at bowling, babe?"

"I've never bowled before," he confesses, and Dean gawks at him for a good few seconds before offering Castiel a grin.

"Well, you'd never played _Super Mario Kart_ either, and you won the whole fucking thing," he points out.

Castiel seems to mull this over before nodding and saying, "That is true."

"Yeah, see? So we'll still kick their asses. Besides, I've always been pretty good with balls." Dean wiggles his eyebrows at Castiel who huffs at him with a shake of his head before Dean tugs Castiel over to pick out a ball.

Before the game gets started, Dean walks Castiel down their lane, showing him the arrows on the floor and explaining how to aim. "Your bowl should all be one fluid movement," Dean states.

They stop at the line, and Dean places his hands on Castiel's shoulders, standing behind him and positioning Castiel like he's just about to toss his ball.

"Shoulders loose," Dean says, "that's it." He wraps around around Castiel's waist, resting his palm on Cas' belly and taking Castiel's right hand in his.

"Pull back--" Dean pulls their arms back as if there were a ball there “-- and when you swing forward, that's when you let go of the ball."

Dean's well aware that Castiel could probably grasp the concept just by watching other bowlers, but if they really were dating Dean would take every opportunity he could get to have his hands all over Castiel, and because he knows Sam and Jess are watching, he does just that. But only because they're being watched, of course.

"Any questions?" Dean asks.

When Castiel speaks his voice comes out rough almost strained, "No, I think I understand."

"Awesome." Dean drops his hands and leads Castiel back to their chairs, and then the game begins.

As it turns out, Castiel is much better at _Super Mario Kart_ than he is at bowling. His first several balls go straight for the gutter, and the rest tilt off to the side right before hitting any pins. He gets progressively frustrated throughout the night, which Dean finds downright fucking adorable, and after Castiel's last frame, he retreats back to their chairs with shoulders hunched in irritation and a scowl on his face.

"I do not like bowling," he tells Dean.

Dean looks up at him from where he sits in his chair and smiles at Castiel. "Finally found something you aren't good at, huh?" he asks.

"I'm terrible," Castiel grumbles.

Dean reaches out and slips his fingers into one of Castiel's belt loops, pulling him down onto Dean's lap. Castiel falls gracefully and looks down at Dean through his lashes as Dean wraps his arms around Castiel's waist.

"You may have been terrible," Dean says, "but I sure did have fun watching you try."

The frown on Castiel's face softens and after staring at Dean for a moment he bends and presses his lips against Dean's cheek. It's a soft touch, barely there and quick, but as it happens, it feels like the world slows down and fades away until there's nothing left but Castiel and Dean.

Dean isn't sure when the hell he turned into such a sap, getting all flustered over a kiss on the cheek, but, if this is what it feels like to be into the mushy feelings crap, then he sure as fuck is on board.

The moment is broken when Sam shouts to Dean that it's his turn. Castiel slides off of his lap almost regretfully, and Dean drops a kiss to his best friend's forehead before taking his turn.

In the end Dean and Castiel lose - turns out Jess is a wicked bowler - but Dean doesn't even give it a second thought as he turns in his bowling shoes, instead replaying in his mind Castiel fumbling with his bowling ball and scowling as it went a different direction than he intended. It's been a very entertaining night.

As they pile back into the Impala, Dean offers the idea of getting food at Southern Comfort. Sam and Jess agree, so Dean heads them in the direction of the diner, explaining to Castiel that Southern Comfort is where he and his guild spent a lot of nights after particularly successful raids.

As soon as they're outside the diner, the smell of grease and rich Southern foods hit Dean's nose, and his stomach growls. It's been far too long since he's had good Southern food.

The interior of the diner hasn't changed a bit since Dean's last seen it. The decor is still tacky, the corner table he and his guild used to frequent is still worn and faded, but the food smells just as good as ever, and Benny's there, smile wide and eyes bright.

"Hey, brother," Benny greets, pulling Dean into a hug and thumping him on the back. "I heard you were back in town."

"Yeah," Dean says. "It's good to be back."

"This must be the boyfriend," Benny states, extending a hand to Castiel. His voice has a cool edge to it that doesn't go unnoticed by Dean.

"Yeah, Benny, Cas. Cas, Benny."

If Dean thought Castiel was standoffish meeting the women in Dean's life, he's even more so with Benny. Castiel stares down at Benny's hand for what feels like a full minute before gripping it stiffly and pumping it once.

"Down boys," Dean mutters as he watches the icy exchange.

"Alright, well. I think you know where to go," Benny muses, smirking at Castiel and handing Dean some menus and gesturing towards the table that's already occupied with several of the people Dean used to game with.

"You gonna eat with us?" Dean questions, accepting the menus from Benny and grabbing Castiel's hand.

Benny eyes their hands, but doesn't say anything other than, "Yeah, just got some stuff to take care of first."

Sam steps in front of Dean, taking two menus from him and ushering Jess into a private booth for just the two of them. "We're gonna sit alone," he informs Dean.

"No making out, you two," Dean says, pointing his finger at Sam and then at Jess as he and Castiel pass them by.

Sam shakes his head.

At their table Castiel meets Aaron, who barely lifts his eyes from his phone long enough to offer Castiel an awkward salute, and Victor, who grumbles a hello before bitching about having to wait for everyone to arrive before he can eat.

Pamela arrives soon after that, punching Aaron on the shoulder as a greeting when he won't acknowledge her for longer than a couple of seconds. Charlie arrives a few minutes after Pamela, looking flustered when she approaches the table. Her eyes flit back and forth between the empty space next to Pamela and the empty space next to Castiel, but when Dean gestures with his eyes at Pamela and nods approvingly, Charlie dumps herself next to the other girl and nervously tucks a strand of hair behind her ear.

"Ladies and gents, I give you, the Red Queen," Pamela jokes as she wraps an arm around Charlie's shoulders and pulls her in to kiss her on the cheek.

Charlie blushes deeply and flutters her eyelashes. "It's good to be queen," she says.

Dean does his absolute best not to roll his eyes.

When Benny comes to take their order and Dean orders the Dean Burger, Castiel casts a glance at Dean. "They have a burger named after you?" he asks.

"Sure do," Benny pipes up. "Dean created the recipe."

"I'll have one of those," Castiel states, firm decisiveness in his voice.

"Sure you can handle it?" Benny asks, and Dean can practically feel the tension rolling off of the two of them in waves.

"Quite," Castiel confirms.

Benny nods and moves on to Victor.

"I didn't know you created recipes," Castiel tells Dean as the rest of the table orders. His eyes are soft, a fond sort of amusement there, and it makes Dean smile.

"It's not a big deal," he says with a shrug. "Benny and his family got sick of me making all sorts of special requests on my food, so they just told me to tell them what the hell I wanted and then named it after me."

"I'm sure you had more of a hand in it than that."

Dean thinks back to the time when he frequented Southern Comfort; late nights with Benny and the rest of the guild, getting hankerings for things that weren't on the menu that Benny and his family would whip up anyway. They had told him more times than once that he had a knack for food, but he'd always just brushed it off and countered with, "I have a knack for _eating_."

"Nah," Dean finally responds, offering Castiel a wide grin. "I just like to eat."

Castiel quirks a smile, "That I did know."

Their food doesn't take long. When Benny sets down a burger the size of a small animal in front of Castiel, a quiet determination steels Castiel's features and Dean throws his head back and laughs.

"Biggest burger we got," Benny tells Castiel with a sarcastic wink, and then he's serving the rest of the table and making Charlie scoot over so he can take a seat next to her. 

The table falls into an easy conversation, joking about times past and catching up on where everyone is nowadays, and it feels just like old times again, but with the added bonus of having Castiel by his side.

Castiel finishes off his burger in record time and when his plate is cleaned, Dean asks him what he thought, to which Castiel offers him a lazy smile and says, "That made me very happy."

Dean can't help the smile that stretches across his face.

By the end of the night Dean is full, and warm, and ready to drop into bed, and, if Castiel's heavy head on his shoulder is anything to go by, he’s not the only one. When Sam comes over and informs Dean it's close to Jess' curfew, Dean knows it's time to call it a night.

He takes care of his and Castiel's check, says good bye, and leaves the diner for home.

When they finally reach the house, Castiel is like a dead man walking; his movements are sluggish, his eyes droopy, and if it weren't for Dean's arm around his waist, he may not have made it up the stairs alone.

The door to their bedroom is barely closed before Castiel is pulling his shirt over his head and fumbling with the button fly on his jeans.

"Whoa there, eager to get out of our clothes, are we?" Dean jokes.

"I'm very tired, Dean," Castiel states, like Dean is being entirely too dense for his patience at the moment.

Dean snickers at him and begins to remove his own clothing.

By the time Dean is in his pajamas Castiel is already in their bed, burrowing underneath the covers and laying more in Dean's spot than his own. Dean flicks the lights off and pads around to his side of the bed before sliding in next to his best friend. 

"You gonna cuddle me again?" Dean asks as he turns on his side and Castiel wiggles closer to him, molding his body to Dean's and draping an arm over Dean's waist. 

"I told you I like to be close to you," Castiel mumbles against Dean's back. "You're warm." 

Dean pulls the covers over them and begins to settle in for the night. “Hey, what was up with you and Benny tonight?” he wonders. 

“It appears neither of us likes to share you,” Castiel grumbles. 

“There’s plenty of me to go around,” Dean retorts, but he’s not even sure if Castiel heard him, his best friend's soft snores filling their room. 

As Dean drifts off to sleep that night, his heart beating a happy tattoo against his chest with Castiel wrapped around him like it's something they've always done, Dean wonders if all best friends treat each other the way he and Castiel do.


	8. Chapter 8

In weeks to come, Castiel slots himself into Dean's life as if he's a piece Dean’s been missing without even realizing it. He helps Mary in the garden while Dean spends time with his dad at the garage, he does his fair share of household chores, and he spends just about as much time yakking Sam's ear off about this or that as he does cuddled up with Dean on the couch while they read or nap.

They go to the movies with Dean's friends and stay up late into the night gaming with Charlie- who has yet to beat Cas in _Super Mario Kart_ \- and even accompany Sam and Jess on a few more dates. They fall easily into the pattern of a couple who's been dating for at least as long as Dean and Castiel have known each other, and while they almost always fall asleep spooned around one another now, neither of them have vocally addressed what that means.

It's not like Dean hasn't entertained the idea of figuring out just what the hell he feels for his best friend, but each time the thought pops up, Dean reminds himself to _relax_ and stomps down anything that even remotely resembles _feelings_.

It isn't until one surprisingly cool day, when he and Castiel are hiding out in the treehouse shooting the breeze and avoiding anything productive, that they come anywhere near addressing what's going on between them outside of what's _supposed_ to be going on between them.

They're on the same bean bag again- Sam's bean bag gets very little use these days- but Dean is sprawled on his back while Castiel sits with his back pressed up against the wooden slats of the treehouse.  

The windows are open, the cool breeze ruffling Cas' hair and taking the edge off the otherwise unbearably hot summer.

"Hey, Cas?" Dean says, staring up at the ceiling. He's long since exhausted all the comic books that he left behind in the treehouse, and while he isn't typically against re-reading, he hasn't been able to find anything that suits his tastes enough to engross himself in. He isn't like Castiel, reading everything in sight.

"Yes, Dean?"

Dean licks his lips, trying to figure out a tactful way to word his question before just diving in. "I know you've never kissed anyone, but have you ever, you know, thought about it?"  He looks up at Castiel and watches as the other teen marks the place in his book and rests it in his lap, his lips pursed together in thought.

"Yes," he finally answers. "I've wondered what it would be like, of course, but it's not as if I sit around fantasizing about it all day."

"I wouldn't be worried if you did," Dean offers, flashing a smile up at Castiel. Castiel shakes his head, but returns the smile nonetheless.

"Why do you ask?"

Dean pushes himself into a sitting position so he can better see Castiel and shrugs. "I don't know," he replies. "I was just thinking maybe it'd be good for you to get some practice before you actually go out kissing people, you know?"

Castiel narrows his eyes. "I have no immediate plans to go out kissing people, Dean."

"Maybe not now, but in the future you could want to kiss someone, right? So what if someone who was pretty awesome and really adorable offered to let you practice with them, so that when it happens for real, you know what you're doing?"

Castiel looks down at his hands and Dean can practically see the wheels in the other teen's head turning. He's actually thinking it out and that's when Dean realizes Castiel is probably taking Dean's words literally.

"Me, Cas. I was talking about me," he finally reveals.

"You would teach me how to kiss?" Castiel questions, his words  slow and tentative, as if he's worried Dean is either joking or making fun of him.

"Yeah," Dean says. "I mean, if you wanted to."

"Do _you_ want to?"

Dean scrubs a hand over his mouth and tries not to let his shoulders bunch up nervously. "I mean you _are_ my best friend. I kinda feel like part of my job as _your_ best friend is to make sure you don't suck at a little lip action, if you know what I mean."

"I know what you mean, Dean," Castiel says, reaching a hand out and placing it on Dean's shoulder as he looks him square in the eye, "but that isn't what I asked. Do you want to kiss me?" Each word is clearly enunciated as it falls from Castiel’s lips.

Dean swallows hard, and he knows there's a naked fear in his eyes that Castiel can probably read easier than that book in hands. "I don't not want to," he finally answers, his voice cracking as the words come out.

"Well I don't not want to kiss you either."

Dean's brain trips over the realization of what they've just told each other, and with only one thought on his mind, he grabs a fistful of Castiel's shirt and pulls him in. They're close- so close Dean can see the vibrancy of Castiel's eyes in HD- and with just the tilt of his head his mouth could find Castiel's and that would be it.

Castiel sits very still, probably waiting for Dean to make the move, to close the mere centimeters between them and seal the deal, and Dean's about to do just that but then Sam is there, and suddenly instead of getting a mouthful of Cas, Dean's getting an earful of, "Hey guys, Mom says- OH _GROSS_! DE-AN! DON'T DO THAT UP HERE, THIS TREEHOUSE IS SANCTIFIED PROPERTY!"

Dean practically leaps out of the bean bag chair, stepping on comic books and candy wrappers as he goes, and Castiel slumps back against the wall, irritation apparent on his features. Sam frowns , probably wondering why Dean's acting like they just got caught doing something they weren't supposed to be doing.

"I don't care if you guys kiss, just don't do it up here. I had my childhood up here, Dean, God."

Even though his skin is itching with anxiousness Dean puts an easy smile on his face and grabs his little brother, pinning him underneath his arm and rubbing his knuckles against Sam's hair. "You're just jealous Cas and I desecrated the place before you and Jess could," he says.

"Jess is a lady," Sam counters, wiggling out of Dean's grasp and straightening his clothes. He runs a hand over his hair to smooth it and Dean reaches out and messes it up again. "I would never kiss her anywhere that would make her feel like less of one. And that includes our treehouse."

"Yeah, yeah," Dean replies. "Just you wait, Sammy. In a couple of months, you two will be _all_ over each other any chance you get."

"Screw you, Dean," Sam grumbles as he heads back down the ladder. Dean chuckles as he watches him go and then turns to Castiel, who's now standing not far behind Dean.

"Rain check?" Dean asks trying not to sound too hopeful. Sam very well may have just spooked Cas from ever trying to kiss anyone ever again, but the other teen nods and shoots an irritated glare down the ladder.

"Preferably somewhere with a door that locks. I do not want to experience that again."

Dean smiles. "Pretty exciting for an almost first kiss though, huh?"

"I never asked for exciting," Castiel grumbles.

Dean lets out a laugh as he leads the way down the ladder.

 

John is at the station again for the night, so Mary takes it easy on dinner and serves chicken sandwiches.

Dean, Castiel, Sam, and Mary sit around the table, talking about the new neighbors moving in down the street, and Mary chats with Castiel about some changes she'd like to make in the garden.

There's blackberry pie afterwards, and when they've all had their fill, Mary packs up some leftovers for John and Bobby and she and Sam head down to the station to drop it off. Castiel assures her he'll take care of the dishes, and Dean eagerly joins him at the sink.

Ever since their almost-kiss in the treehouse, there's been an energy buzzing between them that speaks of what-could-have-happened. It's heightened now that Mary and Sam are gone, and it's just the two of them in the kitchen, shoulders brushing amiably and their hands dipped in frothy, lavender scented dish water.

Neither of them speak for several minutes, the silence stretching out before them and pressing in from all sides. Before long, Castiel is handing Dean the last dish to be rinsed and dried, and their hands fall idle as the suds and water drain from the sink.

Dean turns to rest his weight against the lip of the counter as Castiel reaches for the dishtowel from the oven door handle and dries his hands. "You, uh-" Dean scuffs his toe against the worn linoleum of the kitchen, "you wanna watch some more Star Trek? We're almost finished."

Dean had found out by chance one night, during a match of _Super Mario Kart,_ that Castiel had never seen a single episode of Star Trek.

"Dean, you are literally dating Data," Charlie had said, her eyes still glued to the screen and her bottom lip held determinedly between her teeth. He'd never seen her be this aggressive about a video game she didn't care for, but she was determined to beat Castiel at least once.

After that, Dean had vowed to educate Castiel on the beauty that is Star Trek as soon as possible.   

Castiel nods, and they head for the den where it's dark and cool and perfect for hiding out in. Dean puts in the DVD and drops himself into a corner of the couch, remote in hand, already feeling more relaxed than he has in the past few hours. Watching television doesn't typically require talking, and at this point, that seems most appealing.

Castiel tugs the fleece blanket from the back of the couch and stares down at Dean expectantly. "Dean," he says, when Dean doesn't catch the hint. Dean looks up at him and Castiel just stares back.

"Oh, right," Dean says, lying down on the couch, flattening himself against the back and patting the space he's cleared for Castiel. It's an old couch - soft, well worn, and surprisingly wide - and they learned a couple of weeks ago that the two of them fit on it together quite nicely.

Castiel settles in next to Dean, pulling Dean's arm around his waist when Dean doesn't immediately do it himself, and Dean starts the show.

They lay there for all of about eight minutes before Castiel is turning enough to be able to see Dean's face and saying quietly, "Dean."

Dean flicks his eyes down to Castiel's. "Yeah, Cas."

Castiel bites at his bottom lip for a moment, and then he's leaning in and capturing Dean's lips with his own.

For half a second, Dean forgets to breathe, and either Castiel doesn't notice, or he doesn't care because he keeps right on kissing.

When Dean's brain finally gets with the program, he puts a couple of fingers under Castiel's chin and tips it ever so slightly until he can deepen the kiss. Castiel sighs and shifts against him until he's facing Dean completely. As Dean moves his hand to press at the small of Castiel's back, Castiel's hand comes up to cup Dean's cheek.

Castiel's mouth is warm, his lips soft, and his nose brushes against Dean's as their heads move together. Kissing him feels like watching fireworks explode in the velvety Fourth of July air, or eating slightly melted ice cream with hot cherry pie, and as soon as they pull away, Dean wants more.  

He moves back in halfway, waiting, an open invitation for Castiel to decide what happens next. Dean watches Castiel as he waits, watches how his best friend's eyes remain closed as if he's savoring every last second of what just happened. He can feel Castiel breathing against him, revels in the fact that it seems he's slightly out of breath.

Without opening his eyes, Castiel guides Dean's face closer to his once more and seals their lips together.

When the sound of the front door opening and closing, and Mary and Sam moving about the house floats down the stairs, Castiel finally pulls away and opens his eyes. He slides his hand down Dean's face, thumb catching on his lower lip, and studies Dean's mouth before flicking his eyes back to Dean's.

"Was I okay, Dean?" he asks.

"No idea, Cas," Dean responds. "I got distracted by how kick ass of a kisser you are."

A small smile skips across Castiel’s face and he pecks Dean's lips once more before burying his face in Dean's throat and muttering, "Well, I did have an expert teacher."

Dean's grateful it's dark and that Castiel is no longer looking at him, because the blush that rises in his cheeks is sure to be deep.


	9. Chapter 9

After their first kiss, it's as if a switch has been flipped, and neither of them can get enough of one another. Dean quickly becomes addicted to the taste of Castiel's mouth, the feel of his hands on Cas' hips, his shoulders, his jaw. He becomes desperate for the way Castiel melts into him every single time, for the sighs he lets out, like kissing Dean is all he needs to live. But every night, when Castiel's face is pressed between Dean's shoulder blades or buried in his chest, when his best friend's arms are wrapped around him and their legs are tangled together like longtime lovers, he has to remind himself, _this isn't real_  and it hurts in a way Dean doesn’t understand.

His emotions go to war against themselves, one part of him losing himself in the fake relationship he and Castiel have going on, the other angry at having to give it up in a couple of months, and Castiel's advice to _relax_ practically throws itself out the window.

Some days it's not a problem and Dean can save face just fine, but on others he's crabby and snappish. For the most part, his family stays out of Dean's way on the bad days, but somehow that feels even worse.

Castiel picks up on Dean's sour moods as well and usually just leaves him be, working in the garden with Mary or shutting himself away to read. But every night, no matter what kind of day they’ve had, he curls himself around Dean and brushes gentle fingers through Dean's hair, or holds him close like he’s telling Dean it's going to be alright without actually saying the words. Dean times falls asleep feeling more comforted - and confused - than ever.

Of course, the only person to actually say anything about it is Charlie. She shows up one day with a freshly purchased copy of the newly released video game _Moondoor Kingdom: The Rise of Moondoor_ and waves it in Dean's face until he lets her in.

They go down to the den, and Charlie plops down on the couch as Dean sets up the game. "Where's the BF?"

"Helping mom in the garden," Dean answers over his shoulder. "He loves it out there; I don't even want to know what they talk about while they're out there, though. Probably bees or some shit."

"Or you," Charlie offers.

"Nah," Dean drops a controller into Charlie's lap before settling in next to her and turning on the TV.

"Is everything okay between you two?" Charlie asks. Her voice is quiet but sincere, and Dean knows she means well, but he really doesn't want to talk about it.

"Yeah, everything's just peachy."

Charlie cocks an eyebrow at him. "Dean, when have you ever been able to lie to me and get away with it?" she asks.

Dean lets himself fall back into the couch as he runs a hand through his hair and stares at his controller. She’s right, he's never been able to keep anything from her. "We kissed," he finally reveals. "We've _been_ kissing. A lot."

"I'm still waiting for the bad part," Charlie responds.

"It was my idea," Dean continues, trying to hedge the irritation he's feeling out of his voice. "He'd never kissed anyone before, and I told him if he ever wanted to practice--"

Realization dawns on Charlie's face and her mouth forms a small O. "So you don't know if he's kissing you because he wants to, or because he's trying to build a resume."

Dean taps the tip of his nose.

Charlie nods and contemplation settles over her features. "Well," she finally says, "you can do one of two things. You can talk to him and tell him how you feel - and don't try to tell me you don't feel anything for him, because if you do I _will_ tell everyone you acted as my handmaiden at LARP Con last year - or you can stop kissing him. End things. But like I said, Dean, I think he really likes you."

"What if he doesn't?" Dean asks quietly. He can't look Charlie in the eyes, not when he's feeling so vulnerable, so he keeps his gaze trained on his hands.

Charlie slides her hand over and rests it atop one of Dean's. "Then I'll be there with you next year to help pick up the pieces," she answers gently, "and you'll move on, and this whole summer will eventually be just another page in your book. It won't be easy, Dean. But you'll make it."

"I don't want Cas not to be in my life," Dean says.

Charlie offers him a sad smile. "I know." She squeezes his hand and Dean's suddenly insanely grateful for Charlie's friendship. Even if she does make him talk about feelings and shit.

"Can we please kick some Shadow Orc ass now?" Dean asks, flashing Charlie a smile.

Charlie grins back, "Absolutely."

When Charlie leaves a few hours later, Dean is feeling better. He's still pretty sure he's completely fucked, but acknowledging that fact doesn't seem as hard as he once believed it to be.

~

Dean is in the kitchen when Castiel comes in from working in the garden. He's quite the sight, with dirt smudged on his cheek and sweaty hair matted to his temples. He smells of earth, and summer, and wind, and Dean doesn't even hesitate before pulling him in and slotting their lips together. Castiel's mouth is warm, and if held at gunpoint Dean might deny it, but he sighs into his best friend's mouth when Castiel's arms find Dean's waist.

If all of this is going to end, Dean's going to enjoy every last second of it while he can.

When they pull apart Castiel offers him an inquisitive smile. Dean smiles back and brushes his thumb across Cas' cheek.

"You've got dirt on your face," he says.

Castiel touches his cheek where Dean's thumb just was. "Thank you."

"You hungry?" Dean asks. They're still standing just inches apart, their eyes locked on one another, the warmth from Castiel's sun-kissed body seeping beneath Dean's thin cotton tee.

Castiel nods.

"Okay." Dean leans in once more and pecks Castiel's lips, before he steps out of Cas' space and pulls a few slices of bread out of a nearby bag.

With Castiel so near and tangible, with the lingering feel of his kiss on Dean's lips, the burgeoning feeling to talk to about what's going on between them escapes Dean, and he's left with nothing but a happy smile on his face and the thought of _maybe tomorrow_ in his mind.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case you didn't catch it in the tags, this chapter contains bottom!Dean.

If Dean thought things were about to get better between him and his best friend, he was simultaneously right and wrong in the worst of ways. Without Charlie there to act as the voice of reason, Dean falls back under the assumption he's not actually feeling anything for Cas other than enjoying being close to someone; someone who just happens to be his best friend.

He's sure that when they both go back to school, the way his heart clenches every time he wakes up to Castiel burrowing against him, or the flip flop his stomach does whenever Castiel laughs or smiles, will go away. (The fact that he may have been experiencing similar feelings before any of this even started is completely irrelevant.)

Instead of trying to figure it out, he pushes everything to the side and decides not to waste any more time wondering about what he does or doesn't feel for Castiel.

Things begin to go to hell in a hand basket on a particularly cool night towards the end of their summer vacation as he, Castiel, and Sam are sprawled out under the inky, black Kansas sky watching bright showers of stars fall around them.

Sam is on his right, his hands behind his head and his face drawn up in wonder, and Castiel is on his left, a quiet excitement rolling off of him in shallow waves. As a particularly bright stream bursts above their heads, Castiel gasps, his eyes practically sparkling in the moonlight, and Dean’s suddenly hit by how much he cares for Castiel. 

With his feelings in his throat and a smile skipping across his face, Dean reaches between him and Castiel and lays his hand down, palm up, his fingers lightly brushing Castiel's arm as he waits for his best friend to take his hand. Castiel looks down between them and smiles before sliding his hand into Dean's and grinning like Dean's never seen before.

Everything about the night feels right and perfect and if Dean could stay just like this forever, he would.

As the showers start to fade, Sam's eyelids begin to droop and after a while he heads in the house to go to bed, leaving Dean and Castiel to watch the few last stars streak across the sky.

With Sam gone, Castiel turns into Dean, resting an arm over Dean's waist and letting his head settle on Dean's chest. Dean curls an arm around his shoulders and breathes deeply. The air around them is thick, but a breeze that plays through the air eases the oppressive heat that usually drenches Kansas in the summer. Other than the slight rustle of trees and the quiet chirp of crickets, they're enveloped in a peaceful kind of silence that seems perfectly fitting for the atmosphere. In a word, it's picturesque, and Dean's soaking it all up like a sponge.  

"I don't wanna go back to school," Dean states quietly, his fingers rubbing idly over Castiel's shoulder.

"I thought you liked school," Castiel points out.

"I do," Dean agrees. "I just like this better."

Castiel raises his head just enough to drop a kiss to Dean's lips. "It has been a good summer," he says.

Dean smiles. "Yeah," he agrees, "it has."

After a while they fold up the blanket and head into the house, traipsing up to their room as quietly as possible.

Dean tosses the blanket into the corner and Castiel goes straight for the bathroom, brushing his teeth and changing into his pajamas. Dean goes in after him, and when he's finally climbing into bed with Castiel, Cas pulls him in by his pajama shirt and seals their lips together.

"Sure are getting good at that," Dean says when they pull apart, then adds, "not that you were ever bad at it."

"I stand by my statement about having a good teacher," Castiel asserts, biting at Dean's bottom lip before closing his mouth over Dean's again.

Their kisses are slow and lazy, sweet like they've been since day one, and Dean can't help but tangle his fingers in Castiel's hair and scratch along Castiel's scalp the way he's learned Cas likes. Castiel hums into Dean's mouth, pulling away after a minute and blinking up at Dean through his eyelashes.

They stare at each other in the darkness, moonlight streaming through the window, and after a few drawn-out seconds, Castiel pushes at Dean's shoulder until his back is on the bed and Castiel's upper half is draped over him. When they come together again, Castiel licks at the seam of Dean's mouth and when Dean opens up to him, slides his tongue inside.

In the back of his mind, Dean has the fleeting thought that this is only going to make things harder later on, but Castiel's lips are soft, his mouth warm, and as Dean rubs his hand along Castiel's back he goes pliant beneath Dean's touch.

As Castiel thrusts his tongue in and out of Dean's mouth, he pushes himself until he's straddling Dean's hips, his hands placed on either side of Dean's shoulders, before pulling away to look down at Dean.

"Dean," he breathes out quietly into the silence of the room.

His eyes are deep, endless, and Dean gets lost in them as his hands come to find Castiel's sides.

Castiel's movements are slow, sensual, almost trance-like as he bends to kiss Dean's forehead and eyelids, the tip of his nose and the dip of his chin. Dean's eyes flutter closed and warmth washes over him as Castiel begins to press kisses into the underside of his jaw, along the column of his neck, and into the hollow of his throat.

When Castiel gets to the neckline of Dean's t-shirt, he sits up and looks down at Dean before lifting his t-shirt over his head and tossing it to the floor. He pushes at the hemline of Dean's pajama shirt until Dean reaches down and maneuvers himself out of his own top.

Castiel's eyes skate over Dean's body, taking in every inch of his skin, every imperfection and flaw Dean has. "Sorry," Dean says quietly, as he takes in Castiel's broad shoulders and toned runner's body. "nothing special to look at."

Castiel shakes his head, "You're beautiful," he mutters, before rubbing his hands along Dean's chest then bending to place his mouth gently at Dean's sternum.

Dean's heart feels like it's about to pound right out of his chest as Castiel's lips work over his skin, his hands gliding in their wake.

No inch of Dean goes unnoticed; no part of him goes untouched as Castiel explores and laves and _worships_ , placing kisses on Dean's ribs, dipping his tongue into Dean's navel, closing his mouth over one nipple and then the other, and by the time Castiel is kissing along the waistband of Dean's pajama pants, Dean's having to remind himself to breathe and wills himself not to get hard. He thinks of his brother when he was a wailing, red faced baby, and his uncle Bobby in a maid outfit, but all his attempts are smothered by _CasCasCasCasCas_.

After a moment, Castiel moves back up to Dean's mouth, his heated skin blanketing Dean's own, sending a wave of warmth rolling through him. Castiel kisses Dean with intent, thrusting his tongue into Dean's mouth and licking along the insides before bringing his tongue to flirt with Dean's, and for someone who's never done this before, Castiel is pretty damn good, if a little on the demanding side.

Dean's hands move to cup the sides of Castiel's face and he kisses back just as insistently, biting at Castiel's lips and pushing back at Castiel's tongue with his own. This time though, rather than sighing like Cas usually does, he lets out a low moan, and Dean pulls back to search his best friend's eyes.

Their breathing has picked up and the intensity in the room has gone from zero to one-hundred in about five minutes flat. Dean can feel Castiel beginning to harden beneath the thin layer of his pajama pants that's separating him from Dean, and an oppressive guilt creeps into Dean's chest. This is his best friend. His _virginal_ best friend who, until not too long ago, had never even kissed anyone.

Dean rests a hand on the side of Castiel's face, and Cas practically nuzzles into it. "For the sake of your virginity, I think we should stop," Dean states, hating the words as they fall from his mouth.

Castiel shakes his head, "For the sake of my virginity," he counters, "I insist we continue."

"Cas, if we go any further, it's just going to get harder for me to stop."

Castiel leans in, his face mere centimeters from Dean's, and states firmly, "Dean, I want this. With you, right now. _Please_.”

After that, all resolve goes out the window, and Dean buries the chant of **_BAD IDEA-BAD IDEA-BAD IDEA_** that first accompanied them into this mess at the back of his brain and shoves a metaphorical chest of drawers over the top of it.

If Castiel wants this, who is Dean to say no?

Dean swallows hard, nods. "If you really want this."

"I do," Castiel mutters against Dean's lips, then grinds down. Dean can feel the hard line of Castiel pressing against him and the arousal he's been attempting to curb comes at him full force.

Castiel kisses his way back down Dean's chest and torso, then his fingers are running along the waistband of Dean's pajama bottoms again. Castiel looks up at Dean through his lashes, biting at his bottom lip, and damn if it isn't one of the most enticing things Dean's ever seen. He doesn't give the go-ahead though, not right away anyway.

This is the point of no return for them. A boundary that, once crossed, cannot be ignored, and Dean needs a few seconds to mentally prepare himself for that. After a beat, he nods, and Castiel hooks his fingers beneath Dean's waistband and begins to pull them down, his knuckles dragging over Dean's skin as inch after inch of bare skin is revealed.

When they're around his ankles Castiel tugs them the rest of the way off and lets them slide to the floor as he settles between Dean's legs, his eyes hungrily absorbing where Dean curves, thick and heavy, towards his belly. He reaches out with tentative fingers and skims them over the insides of Dean's thighs and over his arousal, his touch feather light yet sure.

Dean's propped up on his elbows, watching the whole thing happen, and his eyes track Castiel's every move as Castiel palms himself through his pajama pants and bends to kiss Dean's length.

"Dean," Castiel breathes as his fingers slide to places Dean can't see, leaving behind them whispers of admiration. "I want to be inside of you."

When he raises his eyes to meet Dean's again, they're so full, Dean could get lost in them for days. "I don't have anything," Dean croaks, while silently cursing himself. He's always prepared, or at least, he was until he met Castiel and his sex life went a little stagnant. Since he and Castiel became friends, Dean's been content to do other things than seek comfort in someone else's arms. That is, unless that someone else has a head of dark hair and eyes as bright and vast as the ocean; unless that someone else is Castiel.

In the silvery beams of moonlight falling across Castiel's face, his cheeks heat up as he looks down at his hands. "I do," he mutters.

"What?" Dean sputters.

Castiel nods and climbs off of Dean, padding around the bed to dig through his suitcase. When he returns to the bed he has a 'safe sex kit', the kind issued by the health department on campus. Dean's seen them being handed out in the quad before but has never actually had one himself.

"Cas, what are you doing with that?" Dean questions, taking it from Castiel's hands and opening it. A single condom and packet of lube slide out onto the bed, and Dean scoops them up and tosses the rest aside. The condom is bright pink and Dean chuckles as he observes it.

"I'm under the impression my roommate put it in my suitcase before I left," Castiel explains, his voice practically dripping with honesty. Not that Dean would've thought he was lying anyway. "I found it in my bag our first day here."

Dean smiles at Castiel's blatant innocence. It's one of the most endearing things about his best friend and has always made Dean's chest feel a little too tight or like there wasn't enough oxygen in the world. "Well, thank you, Balthazar," Dean says, tossing the lube and condom at Castiel. "I hope you like pink."

Castiel smiles back at him and nods, then everything hazes over as he removes the rest of his clothing, and Dean has his hands full of a very naked, very well-endowed, Castiel.

Their bodies come together in a light sheen of sweat and tender caresses as Castiel opens Dean up until he’s choking out softly, "I'm ready," and "baby, please," and then Castiel is pushing in and resting his forehead on Dean's chest as he breathes through the sensation of Dean wrapped around him.

They move together like they've been doing this for centuries, little praises and guidance falling from Dean's lips, Castiel's fingers digging into the meat of Dean's thighs, and it's like an electricity is building between them, sure to emit sparks just like every cliché in the book.

When he gets close to climax, Dean takes himself in hand and pumps in tandem with Castiel's thrusts. As Castiel's movements begin to stutter, Dean grabs Castiel's hand and links their fingers together. "Cas, look at me," he requests.

Castiel's heated gaze falls on Dean's face, and when he comes his eyes flash and his mouth goes slack, his lips form an O-O-O as he spills inside of Dean. It's the single most beautiful sight Dean's ever seen, like lightning striking an open field, and Dean squeezes Castiel's hand as he spills all over himself not long after.

They ride out their orgasms with gazes locked, Dean unable to tear his eyes away from Cas' blissed out face that seems to still be processing what just happened. After a few moments of catching their breath, Castiel slowly pulls out and takes care of the condom, before leaning over Dean and kissing him fervently.

"Dean," he says. " _Dean_."

"Hey," Dean responds, pushing at Castiel's shoulders until the other teen is looking down at him. He isn't sure what it is he intended to say, but as soon as Castiel's eyes are on him, he finds he can't say anything at all. He brushes his thumb along Castiel's cheekbone and smiles. Castiel smiles back, placing his hand over Dean's and pulling it away until he finds Dean's palm with his lips.

"My lack of virginity thanks you, Dean," Castiel jokes, his eyes hooded and his grin lazy.

Dean doesn't know what to say, so many thoughts and feelings all vying for his attention at once, so he simply pulls Castiel in for another kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special thank you to [cliffnotesofanerd](http://www.cliffnotesofanerd.tumblr.com/) for the brilliant bit about Castiel having the pink condom. (And thank you to everyone else for talking ideas with me through this! Without all of you our boys would have been lube-less and poor Cas would still be sporting his man-cherry.)


	11. Chapter 11

The weight of Castiel's gaze is what draws Dean awake the next morning. His muscles are loose from a good night's rest, and peeling his eyes open is an actual chore. When he finally does, it is to find his best friend once again staring down at him, intent clearly written in the depths of his eyes.

"Hey, Cas," Dean croaks as he stretches and rolls onto his back. "What time is it?"

"Seven," Castiel answers.

"In the morning?" Dean groans, letting his head fall back into his pillows.

Castiel is quiet, and when Dean slits his eyes open again and sees his best friend practically squirming where he sits on the bed, Dean asks, "What's wrong?"

Castiel maneuvers himself on top of Dean and leans in to kiss him. "I'd like to have sex again," he states. His breath is minty and cool and Dean pulls away to look at him.

"Did you just brush your teeth?"

"Yes," Castiel confirms. "I wanted to be ready."

A surge of endearment tugs at Dean's heartstrings, and he smiles up at his best friend, his hands falling to land on Castiel's thighs as they study each other in the early morning light that falls into the room in golden beams.

"Alright," Dean agrees, "but I wanna brush first too."

He sits up and waits for Castiel to get off of him, but the other teen pushes him back into the pillows, capturing Dean's mouth in his own, and mutters, "No need."

"Hey," Dean says, gently pushing at Castiel's chest. "Just give me a second, okay? I'll be right back, I promise. "

Castiel sighs, but rolls off of Dean nonetheless.

Dean winces as he walks to the bathroom, a reminder of Castiel apparent in his ass and thighs, and smiles at the memory.

He makes quick work of brushing his teeth and when he opens the door to the bathroom, Castiel is sitting on the edge of the bed, his eyes trained on the door like a cat watching a canary. As soon as Dean comes out, Castiel is up and across the room, pulling Dean in with two hands around his neck and sliding their lips together.

He pulls Dean towards the bed as they kiss, but when he tries to bring Dean onto the bed with him Dean pulls away, his hands going to Castiel's forearms.

"Hey, hey," Dean says. "Slow down. I'm not going anywhere."

Castiel lets his hands drop to his thighs, and he nods. "I apologize," he says.

"Cas, it's okay just, lets slow down a little bit. I want you to enjoy it."

"Okay," Castiel agrees.

Dean smiles and pushes Castiel until he's lying on his back. He kisses his forehead and Castiel catches Dean's face between his palms. Their next kiss is languid, Castiel plunging his tongue into Dean's mouth, taking his time to explore, and when they separate, Dean fixes his lips to the soft skin of Castiel's neck and sucks until the spot turns warm beneath his mouth.

Castiel lets out a breathy moan as Dean moves down his body, kissing and licking and tickling with feather light touches, and when Dean tugs Cas' pajama bottoms down his hips and Castiel's erection is free, Castiel looks down at him with hooded eyes that swim with anticipation.

"You paying attention?" Dean asks.

Castiel nods, and then Dean takes him into the heat of his mouth. Castiel's hand flies to Dean's bed head, his fingers threading through the strands as Dean bobs along his length.

As the sounds of breakfast begin to float up from the kitchen, the smell of pancakes and grease slipping under their bedroom door and filling the air, Dean brings them both to release, a hand wrapped around himself as he gets off on the sounds Castiel makes as Dean gives him his first official blow job.

Dean sprawls himself out on the bed next to his best friend, and Cas tugs Dean in for a kiss, telling him, "I wanted to know what I taste like on your mouth."

They lie staring up at the ceiling until coherent thoughts begin to trickle back into Dean's brain, and he asks Cas, "You wanna shower? It smells like Mom's almost done with breakfast."

"Yes," Castiel answers. "With you."

As Dean climbs into the shower, several minutes later, his best friend's bare back dripping wet and oh so tempting, Dean's last thought is, _our friendship is so fucked_.

~

Throughout the day, something niggles at the back of Dean's brain any time Castiel shoots him a shy smile or touches him on the elbow, the knee, his cheek. It's not until dinner, when Dean is listening to his best friend enlighten Mary on the importance of bees to the human race, that it hits him. Dean _loves_ Castiel. He loves him so much it's terrifying, and exciting and confusing, and his chest hurts from the weight of it. His head is spinning and this could quite possibly be the worst thing that has ever happened to him, because while the last few months have been downright blissful, they're about to go back to school, away from prying eyes and back to The Way Things Were. And if Dean's being honest with himself, like he should have been three months ago, the thought of not being this way with Castiel - now that he knows what it feels like to kiss him, to hold him in his arms after sex, to watch his eyes blink open on lazy Saturday mornings - makes Dean physically ill, and he immediately has to get away.

Dean shoots up from his chair, rattling silverware on the table, and earning three pairs of eyes staring at him. "Excuse me," he mutters before stumbling away from the table and out to the garage where the Impala rests.

He climbs inside and presses himself back into the leather, inhaling the familiar scent and letting it settle his nerves. He doesn't have his keys, so he can't go anywhere, but he wraps his hands around the steering wheel nonetheless and grips tightly until his knuckles turn white.

If Dean had any idea of how the summer would end, trapped inside his car with an aching heart because he's just realized he's head over heels in love with his best friend definitely wasn't it. He anticipated pain and maybe some awkwardness in their friendship for the first few weeks of fall semester, but this - this terror that they've shared something so deep, something that felt different than it has with anyone else, this knowledge that once they're back at school Castiel could very well take all his newly acquired skills and put them to use on other people, other people who aren't Dean - this is more than he can handle.

Dean closes his eyes, tips his head back, and begins humming Metallica, willing “Enter Sandman” to work it's magic.

As the song streams through his brain, Dean is pulled from his thoughts by the squeak of the passenger side door. He looks over to find Mary climbing into the car and offering him a questioning look.

"Dean, honey, you missed most of dinner. What's wrong?" she asks and Dean's heart melts at his mother's attentive ways. She's always been there for him, has always had his back, and he's been lying straight to her face for the past three months.

Dean bites his lip and studies his hands on the steering wheel. "I did something stupid," he finally admits, "and now I might be in too deep to fix it."

"You can always fix things," Mary tells him.

Dean shakes his head. "Not this," he counters.

Mary doesn't speak, doesn't ask him what he did or pry for details, she just sits back in her seat and looks out the front window at the accumulation of junk in their garage, letting an easy silence fall between them.

Dean's heart pounds in his chest as he contemplates telling his mom everything, and then without his permission he's blurting, "Mom, I'm in love with Cas."

"I know, honey."

Dean sighs and lets his head fall back against the headrest, his eyes falling shut and his hands sliding off the steering wheel to land on his thighs. "And we aren't really dating," he finally says, voice quiet and full of shame. He's afraid to look at his mom, terrified of seeing anger on her face, or disappointment, but when he finally wills himself to look, Mary is studying him with gentle features and a calmness in her eyes.  It almost hurts worse than if she had looked upset.

"We lied because _I_ messed up, and we didn't want you guys to feel dumb or be disappointed. I felt bad the whole time, but then it got too big and- Mom, I'm sorry."

"Oh, Dean," Mary says, as she opens her arms and pulls Dean into them. Dean melts into her, wrapping his arm around her middle and letting his face fall to her shoulder.

"I'm sorry," Dean mutters again. "I didn't mean to hurt anyone."

"I know," she replies softly.

The cab of the Impala falls silent for a long time. Mary strokes her fingers through Dean's hair, and Dean lets himself be taken care of by the one person he feels like he can trust to hold him together through everything.

After a while, Dean's back becomes stiff and he's sure the rest of his family, Castiel included, are wondering what the hell is going on. He sits up and runs a hand through his hair, Mary's eyes tracking his every move.

"I don't know what to do," he finally admits.  

Mary is quiet for a moment before she turns her gaze to the dashboard of the Impala. "Did you know I tried to talk your father into getting us a Volkswagen van?" she asks with a fond smile on her face. "I told him we needed a family car because I wanted to start having children right away after we were married." She reaches out and runs her fingers along the dash and Dean watches quietly.

"When he came home with this _thing_ , I was so upset. What I had asked seemed so simple to me, and he came home with a muscle car and a smile as big as Kansas on his face, like he didn't even feel bad." Mary averts her gaze to Dean's face. It's soft, knowing, and Dean falls into it, a comfort washing over him that only his mother has ever been able to provide. "I was mad for days, Dean, but when I realized how much he truly loved this car, I found I couldn't be angry with him any longer, and you know what?"

"What?"

"I love this car just about as much as he and you do now, and I'd never ask him to get rid of it."

Dean laughs and shakes his head. "Can you see me driving an old family van?" he asks, trying to picture it himself and practically shuddering at the thought.

Mary laughs too. "No," she answers, "I really can't."

The smile fades from Dean's face, and he sighs. "So I guess Cas is the Impala, huh?" he asks.

"In a sense, yes, though a few details are off. I wasn't angry when you brought him home, quite the opposite actually, but the end result of that story is the same as yours."

"Cas _is_ kinda part of the family now, isn't he?"

Mary nods, a smile lighting her face. "You should talk to him, Dean. He deserves to know how you're really feeling."

"And Dad and Sam?" Dean wonders.

"I'm not excusing you lying to us," Mary states, "but whether you decide to tell them or not, I'll support you. That's for you and Castiel to decide."

Dean nods knowing his mom is right.

"We better go in," Mary offers, as she opens her door and slides out of the car.

Dean takes a deep breath, steeling himself for what he's about to do, and follows her. At the door of the garage, Mary pulls Dean into a hug and kisses the top of his head. "I think you make him just as happy as he makes you," Mary says.

Dean hugs his mom tighter. Only time will tell.

When Dean doesn't find Castiel inside, he knows exactly where to go. He slips out through the sliding glass door and into the Winchester's backyard, climbing the ladder to the treehouse with shaky limbs and an erratic heart. On his way up, he can hear Sam and Castiel chattering away about school, and he rolls his eyes. Only those two nerds would actually be excited about going back.

As he climbs into the treehouse, Sam and Castiel stop to look at him, questions clear on both their faces.

"Dean, is everything alright?" Castiel asks.

"Yeah," Dean says, scratching at his arm. "I just need to, uh, talk to you. In private. Sammy, could you give us a few?"

Sam looks worried as he nods and leaves the treehouse, but Dean can't let himself think about it for too long, his mind needing to focus on the problem at hand.

He crosses the treehouse and drags Sam's bean bag to where it can rest right next to Castiel and lowers himself into it.

When he finally looks into Castiel's eyes, there's utter confusion written there and Dean almost looks away, unable to bear the weight of the possibility of losing his best friend just because he had to go and fall in love with him.

"Cas, we need to talk."

"You've said that, Dean."

"Shit," Dean mutters, running a hand over his mouth. His limbs are wobbly and he feels like he can't catch his breath. "Cas, I- over the summer I realized-" Dean rubs his hands on his thighs, gulping in a breath of air and forcing himself to speak. "I realized I have feelings for you. And I know we're about to go back to school, and you'll probably want to start dating people, and that's cool, I'll still be around, but I feel like shit for dragging this out when the whole time I was-"

"Why would I want to start dating people?" Castiel asks, cutting Dean off as a crease forms between his eyebrows.

Dean pinches the bridge of his nose, a stress headache forming between his eyes. "I don't know, because you're experienced now and you can?"

"I could’ve before, Dean. I _chose_ not to," Castiel points out, "just like I'll continue choosing not to. I don't want to be with anyone else."

"Anyone _else_?" Dean questions.

Castiel nods, slowly, like he's waiting for Dean to catch up. "Anyone else, but you," he states.

"Anyone else but me," Dean repeats to himself, realization washing over him at what Castiel is implying.

Castiel sighs self-deprecatingly and shakes his head. "Dean, I'm in love with you. How did you not know that?"

Dean scratches at the back of his neck. "I don't know!" he admits, somewhat angrily, thinking back on the summer and trying to find where he missed that this was something more for Cas too.

Castiel's face pulls into a frown. "But we made love."

"Yeah well, lots of people have sex with people they aren't in love with."

"I don't," Castiel states plainly and Dean doesn't know what to say so he sits gaping at his best friend instead. After a moment Castiel closes the gap between them, leaning into Dean's space and bringing his hands to cup either side of Dean's face, demanding Dean's attention with his eyes. "Dean Winchester, you are the most emotionally constipated person I have ever met," he smiles, "but I am in love with you and only you, and I want to be with you now," he pauses to kiss Dean's forehead, "and when we're back at school," next is Dean's nose, "and next summer," his lips press against Dean's eyelids, "and for as long as you'll have me."

He finishes by slotting his lips over Dean's, and with the knowledge that the only thing that's going to change between him and his best friend is that there will be more of this whenever he wants it, Dean finally feels like he can breathe again.

Finally Dean lets himself fall.


	12. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Four months later...

When Dean walks into Espresso Self, his eyes immediately flick behind the counter. Just as he expected, Castiel and Charlie are behind it, both decked in navy blue aprons with the Espresso Self logo emblazoned across them, arguing about God knows what. Last week it was _who would win in a fight between Pitt and Princess Peach_ , a theory they then tested in one of the most intense games of _Super Smash Bros_ Dean's ever seen. Yesterday it was whether the works of Ayn Rand should be considered ironic or iconic.

He slips behind the counter, dropping his book bag on the nearest flat surface, sidling up behind Castiel and snaking his arms around his boyfriend's waist as he presses a kiss to his neck.

"Dean, what do you think?" Castiel asks in greeting. "Was Severus Snape a villain or a hero?"

Dean moves to stand next to Castiel, resting his weight on the counter and looking from Charlie to Cas before responding; "I think I don't know what the hell you're talking about."

Castiel rolls his eyes and Charlie scowls at him, but he's saved a lecture when customers start filing into the cafe and lining up at the counter. Charlie stalks off to help them, grumbling as she goes, and Castiel turns to Dean with a smile.

"Hey you," Dean says, pulling Castiel in by his apron. Castiel goes willingly, settling himself between Dean's legs and resting his hands on Dean's chest.

"Hello, Dean," he replies.

"What is it you wanted to talk to me about?" Dean asks.

"Christmas vacation is next month," Castiel states, "and I was thinking-"

Dean waits for him to continue. When he doesn't, Dean leans in and brushes his lips against Castiel's own and asks, "You were thinking of giving me endless amounts of free sex for Christmas? I think that's a great idea, Cas."

"Dean, I've been giving you endless amounts of free sex for four months now. Or have you already forgotten last night?"  

Dean's mind flits back to the previous night, when Castiel had made him come twice in record timing. "Nope," he answers with a smirk, "Haven't forgotten."

"I'd be worried if you had," Castiel admits with a hint of a cocky smile.

"Okay, then what's up?"

Castiel takes a deep breath before stating, "I want you to come home with me to meet my family." He looks up at Dean with wide, expectant eyes, and Dean can't figure out what the big deal is. Castiel went home with him over summer vacation, it seems only fair they visit Cas' family for Christmas.

"Sure," Dean answers with a shrug.

"Dean, are you certain? Because if you need some time to think about it, I would understand."

"Of course I'm sure, babe," Dean answers. "Aside from being a bunch of dicks, how bad can your family really be?"

Castiel worries at his bottom lip, and Dean can sense an anxiousness still bubbling beneath his boyfriend's skin.

"Cas, what is it?" Dean asks, his thumbs sliding beneath the hem of Castiel's shirt, where he moves them in soothing circles on Castiel's skin.

"Well," Castiel says slowly, "if you were to come home with me for Christmas, we would have to act as if we were only friends."

"What? Why?"

Castiel looks up into Dean's eyes, a quiet sort of pleading there as he states, "Dean, my family doesn't know we're dating."

**THE END**


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